


All for Love

by JDaydreamer



Category: Warehouse 13
Genre: AU, F/F, Marriage of Convenience
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-11-24
Updated: 2017-02-20
Packaged: 2018-02-26 20:19:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 109,773
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2665046
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JDaydreamer/pseuds/JDaydreamer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Helena Wells faces deportation, returning to London indefinitely.  Myka Bering is unwilling to see her go.  Helena proposes marriage and against her better judgement, Myka finds herself accepting.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I've always had a weakness for the fake marriage trope and when this story came to mind, the desire to write it was too great to ignore. The plot is of course improbable, as fake marriage stories generally are, but that has never stopped me from enjoying them regardless.

Myka Bering loves her work. She’s reminded of this every morning as she reads the title Endless Wonder Book Publishers etched across the glass door before she steps inside the small publishing office. Recruited by Irene Frederic, the founder of the company, the job is tailor made for Myka, a woman who loves literature of all genres, with a scrupulous eye for detail and a keen instinct. Myka loves the challenge of the work, the diversity of it, and the people she works with. Surprisingly, it’s her coworkers that have proven to be the most rewarding aspect of the job. Five years ago when she stepped inside the office doors, her only concern was to do her job and do it well. But now, her coworkers are family to her, and she can’t imagine her life without them, without one coworker in particular. 

As Myka strolls through the office, her satchel slung over her shoulder and coffee cup in hand, she takes in the familiar sights of the office buzzing to life around her. Leena is at her desk, sorting through emails. Claudia sits at her computer, surfing the web with Steve seated next to her, scribbling notes. And Pete, as usual, isn’t working but absently tossing a stress ball into the air and catching it effortlessly as she passes.

“Hey, Mykes, happy Monday,” Pete greets and Myka nods her head.

“You’re in early today, Pete,” she comments.

“Ah, you know me. I didn’t want to miss the show,” he gestures to Artie’s office. “They’ve been going at it for almost forty minutes this morning.”

And then there’s HG, currently in Artie’s office, the way she practically is every Monday morning, arguing. Myka shakes her head and smiles. Some things never change. She knows only too well, after they have finished arguing for the time being, HG will stomp into her office to unleash everything Artie is asking her to do now. Helena Wells has been with Endless Wonder for the last three years, also personally recruited by Mrs. Frederic; only Artie has never understood why Mrs. Frederic insisted on hiring another editor, especially one not prone to following orders as Helena, and Artie has always resented Helena for it. Especially when Helena proved to be exceptional at her job, always seeming to know what work of fiction will make the best sellers’ list. But Helena can never seem to convince Artie to publish a story without a battle between them first, as they seem to be in the midst of now.

Myka sighs. “Forty minutes? You really did get here early, why?” Myka asks Pete suspiciously.

“Don’t let him fool you, Myka,” Claudia interrupts. “Pete only got here minutes before you. But Steve and I have been keeping track of their time,” she nods toward the office where Myka can hear Artie shouting. She winces at the sound.

“Forty minutes is a long time, even for them,” Myka states worriedly. “And it’s not like Helena to come in to the office so early either.”

“That’s what we thought,” Claudia agrees. “I can’t imagine what kind of story she wants Artie to publish now.”

Myka sighs. “I’m sure I’ll hear about it soon enough,” she says making her way to her own office.

Setting down her satchel, Myka removes her coat, before sitting down at her computer, sorting through emails, just waiting for the moment Helena will storm into her office to unleash everything Artie disagrees with her about. Today is different however. Helena doesn’t come stomping into her office as expected; instead it is Leena at her door.

“Myka, Artie is asking to see you in his office.”

Myka rises quickly. “Did he say what it’s about?” she asks following Leena out the door.

“No idea, but HG looks rather subdued, so it can’t be good.”

That is bad, Myka realizes. She’s never seen Helena subdued in the three years she’s known the often, formidable Englishwoman.

“Artie, you want to see me?” Myka steps inside his office, catching a quick glance at HG who offers her a small smile as she runs her hand through her hair distractedly. 

“Close the door behind you,” is what Artie greets her with. “It seems we have a situation on our hands,” he continues looking at HG accusingly.

“You act as if I did this on purpose,” HG speaks defensively.

“Well, you continually like to insinuate how much more intelligent you are compared to me, so it does seem rather ironic you could let something like this happen.”

“I’ve been busy, if you haven’t noticed, and I slipped.”

“Would someone please tell me what’s going on?” Myka asks already frustrated by their incessant arguing. 

Artie turns to look at her. _“Ms. Wells, here,”_ he says with emphasis, “somehow managed to forget to renew her work visa and is subject to deportation almost immediately, unless we can come up with a solution to keep her here. I, for one, would gladly see her back to London, but Mrs. Frederic insists she’s needed here, so here she shall stay.”

“All right,” Myka speaks cautiously. “What exactly do you want me to do – get the visa renewed?”

“It’s not so simple as that,” Artie speaks. “The renewal can take months and Mrs. Frederic is adamant Ms. Wells not be deported if possible. So…” he falters.

“So…” Myka prods, looking from Artie to Helena and back to Artie again.

Artie sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose as if he would rather be anywhere than where he is right now. “HG did make a proposal.”

Helena’s laughter filters through the air. “You just made a pun, very good, Artie,” she smirks at him. Artie glares back.

“Any pun was unintentional, I assure you.”

“Pun?” Myka asks confused yet again. “Will someone please explain to me what’s going on?”

Artie groans. “HG informs me that you two are…” he struggles for the proper word, gesturing vaguely with an arm, “that you’re…together…a couple,” he finally manages to sputter, perturbed that’s he’s been placed in this position of speaking to his employees about their personal affairs.

“What?” Myka gasps startled, looking to Helena for an explanation.

Helena rises from the chair she was sitting in to approach Myka. “I’m sorry, darling, but I had to tell Artie about us,” she speaks, her dark brown eyes searching Myka’s, begging her to understand and to go with the ruse. “You see, what Artie is trying to explain, and failing miserably doing so, I might add,” she glares at him, “is that if we were to marry, I wouldn’t have to be deported.” 

“Helena, you’re not serious?” Myka scoffs nervously.

“I know this is sudden,” Helena agrees, “and we’ve certainly never discussed marriage, but is the idea of marrying me so objectionable then?”

“What? No…I mean…it’s not…Helena, this is completely crazy,” she utters before seeing Artie’s scrutinizing stare. “I mean…as you said, we’ve never even discussed marriage…and now to marry so soon it’s…crazy,” Myka repeats grasping her neck and rubbing at it as if in pain.

Helena sighs. “Myka, you’re my coworker, my best friend and…lover,” she adds glancing at Artie briefly to see him turn away at the word in embarrassment. She grins seeing his sudden discomfort but the grin quickly fades when she turns to look at Myka, who would appear rather pale if not for the faint blush tinting her cheeks. 

“Darling,” Helena says taking Myka’s hand in hers, “I assure you it won’t be such a stretch for us to be married. It’s only a piece of paper to legalize my stay here, nothing more.”

Perhaps Myka is old-fashioned, but she takes the idea of marriage much more seriously. “Are you absolutely sure this is…the only way…that this is what you want, Helena?” Myka asks. “Marriage is a huge commitment,” she tries to emphasize, practically begging Helena to consider the possible repercussions. 

“While I don’t exactly have an aversion to returning to London, my life is here now, in Denver…with you,” Helena answers. “Besides, Irene prefers to have me close,” she shoots a meaningful look at Artie.

“I still don’t understand why,” Artie shakes his head. “You’re an editor. This day in age, you can edit from anywhere. We can send you the work through email.”

“But my life is here now,” Helena repeats firmly. Glancing at Myka her features soften to see the worry in clear green eyes. “But I don’t want to put you in a situation that makes you uncomfortable, Myka,” she speaks gently. “I know this isn’t an ideal situation…after all…we’ve only recently begun our relationship,” she says for Artie’s benefit, “and you certainly don’t have to marry me. I can in fact return to London if need be.”

Myka feels her stomach drop at the thought. To not see Helena every day as she has for the past three years is unimaginable and unendurable. 

“I can’t believe I’m saying this,” Artie rubs his chin, “but you’re going to have to get married if HG is to stay here.”

Myka turns to Artie suddenly. “Would it be possible for Helena and I discuss this matter privately before we come to a final decision?”

Artie looks as if that is the best idea he’s heard all morning. He nods rigorously. “Go, talk,” he waves them off relieved. “Just let me know what you decide so I know whether to celebrate HG’s departure or offer condolences to you, Myka.”

Helena scowls at Artie but refrains from commenting as Myka firmly grasps her by the elbow to lead her out of Artie’s office, through the open space of the office where Myka is keenly aware of the stares of her coworkers, and into her own office where she shuts the door with an unintended slam.

“Marriage, HG!” Myka gasps incredulously.

Helena winces. “Oh dear,” she says chagrined. “I know you’re upset when you use my initials.”

“You just lied to our boss about us having a romantic relationship and you want me to marry you to avoid deportation! Which is illegal by the way! Why wouldn’t I be upset?” Myka asks, throwing up her arms before settling them across her chest defensively. 

Helena drops into a chair wearily. “I know, it’s complete utter madness,” she agrees. “But Myka, you should have heard Artie. He was insufferable, practically giddy when I told him of the situation I was in. He would gladly see me return to London, but when he made a call to Mrs. Frederic to inform her of the problem, she told him to find a way to keep me here. He berated me for half an hour before I finally had enough of his insidious comments and blurted I could marry you. I’m still not certain he entirely believes we’re romantically involved, but it seems he’s willing to turn a blind eye as long as it keeps me here to please Mrs. Frederic.”

“But why me?” Myka asks, and this is perhaps the question she wants answered more than anything. “If anyone would do, why not propose a marriage between you and Pete or Steve?” she asks still flustered by the event that has transpired.

Helena gives her a look of incredulity. “There is no universe in which Pete Lattimer and I would ever be romantically involved,” she says shuddering at the thought. “And as for Steve…” she tapers off significantly with a raised eyebrow.

“Yeah, okay,” Myka acknowledges the futility of the question she posed as she grasps the back of her neck in agitation and leans on the edge of her desk. 

“I suppose I should feel flattered I’m the one you think of spur of the moment when you’re trying to convince Artie you’re in love with someone,” she laughs nervously meeting Helena’s eyes. 

“You should,” Helena replies softly. “Myka…you and I…we make sense,” and there is a look of shyness about her at the admission that momentarily takes Myka’s breath away. “At least in the sense of fooling Artie about my romantic attachment anyway,” she manages a chuckle.

“Helena, this is serious,” Myka continues, trying to ignore the swarm of butterflies that are currently fluttering in her stomach at Helena’s words. “Marriage…it’s a contract, and in this instance, illegal, as I mentioned before, to marry someone just to obtain residence in the country,” she sputters. “We could get caught. You could be deported anyway and I’d be sent to jail and…”

“Myka,” Helena interrupts moving forward in her chair to lay a soothing hand along Myka’s leg and Myka is acutely aware of her touch. “I’m hardly a threat to national security. I’m only an Englishwoman who happened to let my visa expire. I’ve lived here for three years now. I think your government has more important concerns than my personal affairs, at least I should hope so,” she quips.

But Myka doesn’t laugh, doesn’t even smile. Instead, Helena observes the frown on Myka’s face deepen and the look that passes though her green eyes is one of fear.

“I’m sorry, Myka,” Helena apologizes. “I meant what I said before, I don’t want to put you in any situation that makes you uncomfortable,” she says removing her hand from Myka’s leg to run it through her raven tresses. Myka misses the contact but watches distractedly as Helena’s long fingers filter through her hair. “And you’re absolutely right, it is illegal what I’ve asked of you and I can’t do it. I’ll tell Artie the truth and return to London,” she says rising from her chair.

Myka truly is afraid now. She’s afraid of creating this lie to sell to Artie, Mrs. Frederic, and possibly the government, yes, but is it really a lie when she does love Helena? After all, friends get married all the time, why should this be any different? What truly terrifies Myka is Helena walking out of her life to return indefinitely to London, to possibly never see her again. To not see Helena’s dark eyes shine with amusement, or hear her laughter, or feel her excitement when she comes across a new story she wants to publish. There would be no more morning meetings talking over hot beverages, or the occasional quiet Friday nights spent on Myka’s sofa sharing a bottle of wine and watching a movie. Myka can’t let Helena go, she won’t. 

“No, wait,” Myka implores watching as Helena turns dark eyes on her. “I’ll marry you,” she breathes.

“You will?” Helena asks uncertain.

Myka stops leaning on her desk to stand up straight, awkwardly dropping her hands to her side. “Yes, I’ll marry you,” she repeats, feeling as if her heart is about to burst from her chest at Helena’s appreciative smile. “Admittedly I have my reservations…obviously I do…but…I don’t want you to leave, Helena.”

“I don’t want to leave either,” Helena responds and the air between them is palpable.

Myka grasps the back of her neck again, as she tries to grasp for something more to say. “I’m still a little confused how you could let your visa expire in the first place though. It’s unlike you to forget something so important.”

Helena looks away, combing her fingers through her hair distractedly. “I don’t know quite how it happened either,” she confesses. “It’s not like me to be so careless, but I have had a rather busy schedule of late and there have been…a dalliance or two that have offered some distraction,” she concedes with a smirk.

Myka rolls her eyes at this. “You and your dalliances,” she mutters under her breath as she steps behind her desk and begins to shuffle through papers.

“What was that, darling?” Helena asks with a raised brow.

It’s on the tip of Myka’s tongue to say ‘nothing’ and let it go, but there is something else that bothers her. Something she needs to find out if they are actually to go through this marriage.

“Well, since you brought up the subject…what happened with Giselle?” Myka asks softly, trying to sound nonchalant. 

Helena looks away, almost as if she’s embarrassed about something. “We’ve parted ways,” is all she offers.

Myka huffs in frustration at Helena’s lack of an explanation. “That’s all you’re going to tell me about this woman you were so infatuated with not more than three weeks ago when you finally introduced me to her?”

Helena remains silent and still doesn’t look at Myka.

“Helena?” Myka asks gentler now, concerned by her reaction. “Wouldn’t you rather marry Giselle, seeing as you two were actually involved?”

“No,” Helena says adamantly then tries to explain. “Myka, things happen…something happened…I made a mistake,” she smiles sadly finally meeting Myka’s eyes and Myka is surprised to observe a faint blush to her cheeks before Helena quickly turns away again. “At any rate, it really doesn’t matter what happened as Giselle and I were never going to be a long term relationship.”

“Why would you say that? You both seemed completely…taken with each other when I saw you together,” Myka speaks truthfully as much as the remembrance of that meeting still bothers her for reasons she doesn’t want to examine.

Helena laughs sardonically. “Evidence that appearances can be deceiving. As it so happens, we broke up that very night, actually.”

“Oh,” is all Myka manages to say. Stepping around her desk, Myka approaches Helena and gently touches her arm. “I’m sorry, Helena,” she says sincerely.

Helena looks up at the touch and Myka finds herself struggling for breath at the sight of those dark eyes looking at her with such vulnerability and affection.

“Thank you, darling, but there’s nothing to be sorry about, truly,” she smiles even though it doesn’t quite reach her eyes. “Oh, Myka,” she says, her eyes suddenly large, “I didn’t even think to ask in the midst of all my troubles, but what about you? Is there someone you’re interested in, because if so, I don’t want to interfere…”

“Helena, stop,” Myka shakes her head. “There is no one else.”

Helena looks at her critically. “Are you absolutely certain?”

Myka briefly thinks of Sam. A lawyer who happens to work in the same building, they finally introduced themselves after meeting in the elevator several times. They’ve even met for coffee once in the building’s cafeteria, and though Sam is intelligent and kind and seems interested to take things further, Myka is reluctant to do the same. 

“I’m certain. I’m all yours,” Myka says then blushes at the unintended implication of her words.

Helena grasps her hand and smiles. “Thank you for this, Myka. You truly are a friend beyond compare.”

Myka steps away, forcing Helena to drop her hand at the action. “So, I guess we need to make arrangements then. When do we get married?”

“As soon as possible, however, we do have quite a bit to get done. We need to obtain the marriage certificate and find an officiate to marry us, but I think we should be able to get everything done by Thursday.”

“Thursday,” Myka breathes suddenly weak in the knees at the thought. “That’s…really fast,” she says sitting on the edge of her desk once more.

“Not getting cold feet already, are you?” Helena quips. “Surely our conversation this morning has been more than sufficient to convince you of the infallibility of this arrangement,” she smirks. 

“Not funny, Helena,” Myka says grasping the edge of her desk tightly just for something to hold onto. 

“Relax, darling,” Helena tries to soothe. “We’ll get married and in three months, after I receive my visa, we’ll have the marriage annulled as if it never happened.”

“Three months. Just in time for Christmas,” Myka suddenly realizes.

“Yes, you can consider the annulment a gift then,” Helena says a little too brightly.

Myka ignores the comment and clears her throat nervously. “And what about living arrangements during the three months we’re married?”

Helena smiles. “There’s no reason why that should change. We simply both go on about our lives as normal, only we’ll be married now, so you just can’t marry another during that time.”

“Fine,” Myka nods her approval. “I think we should keep this marriage just between us, Artie and I suppose Mrs. Frederic.”

“I agree discretion is of the essence.”

“I’ll tell Artie of our plans then.”

“It would probably be better coming from you,” Helena concedes. 

“Right. Okay then, if everything is settled on that point, I suppose we should get to work. What story is Artie refusing to let you publish now, Helena?” 

And just like that, they are back to being coworkers, their friendship firmly in place and firmly unchanged.

***

Myka spends most of the morning locked in her office after she and Helena have discussed both work matters and the matter of their impending marriage. She’s not sure which is harder to believe: that’s she’s going to break the law, or that she’s intentionally doing so to marry Helena. Had it been anyone but Helena, Myka knows she would never even consider this plan, let alone act on it. But it is Helena, and Myka has long since realized where Helena is concerned, there is nothing she won’t do for her. She sighs at the thought, wondering how she ever got to this point. 

Finally resigning herself to at last to speak with Artie about the deportation solution, she stands from her desk to pull on her blazer. Distractedly, she takes a moment to adjust the collar, pulls at the sleeves, tugs at the fit, brushes a hand through her unruly curls before at last walking out of her office, across the main floor and knocks on Artie’s door.

“Come in!” Artie barks.

Myka quickly steps inside, firmly shutting the door behind her and strides up to his desk.

“Well?” he asks leaning back in his chair to look up at her. 

“Artie, Helena and I…have decided to marry,” Myka speaks and hates that her voice quivers slightly at the statement.

Artie looks at her skeptically. “Are you absolutely sure about this, Myka?” he asks and his voice softens with concern.

“Artie, I know you and Helena have never gotten along, but I hope one day you’ll see in her what I do. That she’s incredibly intelligent, a talented editor, she’s caring and loyal and…”

“And you’re going to marry her,” Artie sighs interrupting her rambling. “When is the wedding then?”

“We’re planning on Thursday evening after work.”

Artie nods. “I hope you know what you’re getting yourself into, Myka.”

“I’ve given the situation a lot of consideration and I know what I’m doing, Artie,” she speaks honestly, “I really do. But I wondered if I could ask you a favor?”

“What is it?”

“Please keep our marriage quiet? I know you’ll have to inform Mrs. Frederic, but please, let Helena and I keep this between us, at least for now, while everything is…still so new. I mean, we just barely started dating…and now to get married…” she tries to explain, faltering slightly under the lie.

Artie purses his lips in contemplation for several long minutes and Myka feels perspiration begin to dot her skin under his gaze. 

“Fine,” he finally agrees.

“Thank you, Artie,” Myka smiles with relief. Artie just waves her off in dismissal and she quickly exits his office.

“So, what’s the news today?” Pete asks startling Myka as she closes Artie’s office door behind her. 

“What news?” Myka asks confused.

“The news, Mykes, you know. What was the battle royal about earlier this morning between HG and Artie?”

“Oh, uh, you know the usual,” she answers vaguely. 

“Hey, you okay, Mykes?” Pete asks taking in her appearance, the way her skin is slightly flushed and she almost sounds like she’s out of breath.

“Of course, why wouldn’t I be?” she asks pulling at her blazer self-consciously. 

“I don’t know you just seem a little flushed. Did Artie say something to upset you? Did he finally make good on his threats and fire HG?”

Myka shakes her head. “You know Mrs. Frederic would never allow that to happen. Helena is staying for good,” Myka confirms, a soft smile gracing her lips.


	2. Chapter 2

Helena offers to obtain the marriage license, but considering her neglect is the reason for their current predicament, Myka decides to take responsibility for the marriage license herself. However, a quick search on the Internet and a phone call to confirm, (Myka is leaving nothing to chance) reveals that both parties must be present to obtain the license, so bright and early Tuesday morning, Myka and Helena are there on the steps of the courthouse waiting for the doors to open.

The September morning is brisk, a chill in the air and Myka is grateful for the steaming cup of coffee in her hands that Helena insisted on purchasing for her on their way to the courthouse. She takes a sip now and her eyes meet Helena’s over the rim of her cup as Helena sips at her own hot tea.

“Thank you again for doing this, Myka,” Helena says.

Myka waves her off. “That’s what friends do right? Marry each other when they’re faced with deportation,” she laughs lightly.

“I’m not quite sure all friends would be so willing to step up in this circumstance, but you only reinforce the reason why I’m very lucky to call you my friend.”

“I’m sure you would do the same for me.”

“Ah, but I’m quite sure you would not ask such a thing of me,” Helena says despondently. 

“Hey,” Myka gently chides, laying a hand along Helena’s arm to offer comfort, “if that’s true, it’s only because as you know, I’d have the visa paperwork filled out and completed well in advance,” she says, her eyes shining with amusement.

“That is true,” Helena concedes. “You’re always so organized, dotting every i and crossing every t as it were.”

“It’s who I am,” Myka agrees with a shrug.

“Yes, and I’m extremely grateful that you are who you are,” Helena says softly and Myka feels the heat of a blush form in her cheeks at the way Helena is looking at her, her eyes soft and sincere. 

Uncertain what to say in response, an awkward silence follows in the space of several heartbeats before Helena is speaking again, somewhat hesitantly. 

“I’ve been giving it some thought…since yesterday that is, wondering what we should do about our names.”

“What do you mean?” Myka asks.

“We’ll have to sign the marriage certificate once we’re actually married. Traditionally, married couples share their name.”

A burst of laughter tumbles from Myka’s lips. “I’d say our impending marriage is hardly traditional.”

“Yes,” Helena sighs. “You’re right of course.”

Myka raises an eyebrow at Helena’s…disappointed reaction and feels her pulse begin to quicken. “Wait, are you saying you want to take my name?” she asks confused and is surprised to see a pink hue in Helena’s cheeks. It could be affects of the cold, but Myka is fairly certain Helena is actually blushing.

“Well, more like take each other’s names. Wells-Bering or Bering-Wells, some variation of the sort. I think perhaps Bering-Wells would be more agreeable…you do have the alphabet on your side…and it does roll off the tongue slightly better,” Helena stammers.

Myka is on the brink of grinning at the idea of Helena actually giving thought to what name they should share, but there is a nagging question on her mind. “Why bother changing names if we’re just going to get the marriage annulled in three months?” she very logically asks and hates herself a little for it, especially when she watches Helena deflate before her eyes.

“Oh. Yes, well, I just thought perhaps it would look more official on the wedding certificate, I don’t actually expect you to legally change your name,” she explains. 

“Well, if it’s only for the marriage certificate,” Myka contemplates, “I suppose it makes sense to share our name,” she offers Helena a smile.

“Really?” Helena asks.

“Yeah, I mean you’re right. We don’t have to legally change our names. That would just be extra work to have to change them back later. But on the marriage certificate, it could be a good thing, especially if for some reason we are questioned about the validity of the marriage. It can’t hurt,” Myka concludes with a shrug. 

Helena smiles brightly. “Aces.”

Myka feels a rush of warmth spread through her chest at Helena’s smile and wants to say…something, anything, but at just that moment, they both hear the turn of the lock in the door and the courthouse is opened for them to enter inside.

The office is empty except for the two women as they step up to the clerk’s counter to ask about applying for a marriage license. The woman behind the counter offers them a friendly smile as they state their intention.

“We’ve gotten quite a few same-sex couples applying for marriage licenses since the law was passed,” the clerk says. “It’s so good to see people that have loved each other for years finally offered the opportunity to legalize that love for all the world to see.”

“Yes, it is indeed,” Helena readily agrees as Myka begins to silently fill out her portion of the paperwork.

“How long have you two been together?” the woman asks curiously.

“We’ve…known each other three years,” Helena answers truthfully.

“And have you got your wedding all planned out? Dresses, cake, the works?”

Helena laughs. “Nothing so grand as that. Myka and I aren’t very elaborate I’m afraid. A simple ceremony is all we need. In fact, we’ll likely be back in this very courthouse later this week for the ceremony.”

“That seems a shame. Two beautiful women like you should have a day of extravagance that celebrates you,” the clerk says. 

“I’m quite certain Myka and I will find a way to make the day memorable in our own special way,” Helena smirks at Myka, delighting in the way a blush flushes her cheeks.

“Here, your turn to fill out the application,” Myka says pushing the paper towards Helena.

“I have to say, it’s one of the perks of my job to see such obviously in love couples like you making a lifetime commitment to each other. To love, honor and cherish,” the clerk sighs. “I tell you, it makes me feel like there is hope for the world yet.”

Myka rubs at the back of her neck, feeling heat rise in her cheeks yet again. She offers the clerk a bashful smile. “Sounds like you enjoy your job then.”

“I do,” she affirms, “especially when I have two blushing brides on my hands,” she laughs.

Myka glances at Helena who offers her a brief smile before directing her attention to the application; and Myka is taken aback to see that the clerk is right, Helena is blushing for the second time this morning. Myka has rarely witnessed Helena blush over anything; this woman whose incessant flirting can bring about a blush to Myka’s cheeks as easily as breathing. To observe Helena blushing for the second time this morning is nothing short of extraordinary and she’s not sure what to think of it. 

Tearing her gaze from Helena, Myka asks, “How long will it take to obtain the license?” 

“Can’t wait to get married, is that it?” the clerk laughs.

“Something like that,” Myka agrees.

“As quickly as my little fingers can type, I should have your license ready for you. Pay the thirty dollar fee and I’d say, in no longer than fifteen minutes, you two can be on your way to a lifetime of happiness, once you have an officiate actually marry you that is,” she smiles warmly.

“Thank you,” Helena speaks as she pushes the completed application across the counter to the clerk and begins to search through her wallet for the appropriate sum. “We appreciate your assistance with this.”

“Ah, the pleasure is all mine. You two are just adorable,” she grins before turning to her computer to work in earnest.

Helena offers Myka a soft smile and they walk away from the counter to take a seat on a bench in the empty lobby as they wait for a piece of paper that will unite them in a way that will leave their lives forever changed.

Sitting side by side, Myka thumbs through a discarded magazine distractedly while Helena crosses and uncrosses her legs at least a dozen times, Myka keenly aware each time. 

“It’s nothing to be nervous about, Helena,” she finally speaks after watching Helena cross her legs for the umpteenth time. 

Helena looks at her startled. “I’m not nervous,” she defends, combing her fingers through her hair.

“Your body language suggests otherwise,” Myka grins.

Helena sighs. “You know me far too well, Myka. “All right, I am nervous. It’s becoming very real all of a sudden and I just want to make sure…that I’m not going to ruin your life,” she says looking down at her hands.

The catch in Helena’s voice is enough to set Myka’s heart aflutter. “You’re not, Helena,” she says gently. “I wouldn’t marry you if I didn’t want to.” Helena looks up sharply at the statement. “I mean, you know…to help you,” Myka stammers under her gaze.

Helena smiles at Myka’s concern for her. “I know,” she concedes, “but are you absolutely certain you want to go through with this? It’s not too late to change your mind and I certainly wouldn’t think any less of you for doing so.”

Myka knows Helena is giving her a graceful out. They can forget the plan, they won’t break the law and Helena will return to London. Myka intakes a sharp breath at the thought of Helena’s possible departure. It’s just as painful now as it was the day before. She can’t possibly endure Helena leaving…her.

“I’m certain. I want to do this, Helena,” she says as she continues to flip through pages of the magazine unseeingly. 

“Forgive me for saying so, but you don’t appear so certain by the way you’re looking through that magazine,” Helena smirks.

“I’m just browsing through it,” Myka defends.

“It’s upside down, darling.”

Myka groans when she realizes Helena is correct and quickly closes the magazine and turns it right side up to reveal a parenting magazine of all things. 

“The remnants of another who found it imperative to marry?” Helena questions, glancing at the cover.

Myka manages a chuckle. “I wouldn’t be surprised,” she says meeting Helena’s amused eyes. “Okay, I may be slightly nervous,” she admits.

Helena laughs. “Perfectly understandable.” Studying the cover of the magazine in Myka’s hands, she is suddenly struck by a thought. “It’s terribly thoughtless of me not to ask before now, but since we are to be married in a just a matter of days, I suppose I should know…do you want to have children someday, Myka?” she asks, her eyes alight and her mouth set in a grin.

Myka feels a familiar heat travel into her cheeks at the inquiry. “It doesn’t really matter where we’re concerned, does it? I mean, this marriage is just for convenience; we’ll be separated in a few months. Not to mention the fact we’re two women, so children aren’t going to happen without some sort of…assistance,” she stammers trying to turn back to the magazine for distraction.

“Still, I’d like to know,” Helena continues as she gently pulls the magazine from Myka’s hands. “Do you want children someday?” she asks again. 

Myka sighs. “I don’t know? Maybe…if I’m with the right person and it’s something they want too. Right now, I’m more focused on my career, and children are not part of that.”

“Fair enough,” Helena concedes. “I think it’s good to be well established before having children anyway.”

“What about you then?” Myka asks genuinely curious. “Do you see yourself having children?”

Helena adjusts in her chair as she struggles for an answer.

“Helena?” Myka prods. “Turn about is fair play,” she nudges her shoulder playfully. 

Helena sighs. “All right then, yes, I see myself having children. Or rather, having a child. A little girl to be specific,” she answers seriously.

“Really?” Myka asks surprised. “You’ve actually thought about this, haven’t you?”

Helena turns dark eyes to meet Myka’s bright ones. “I haven’t just thought about it, Myka,” she speaks softly. “I’ve dreamed about her, many times,” she says looking away, suddenly self-conscious about her very personal admission.

Myka takes a moment to process this new information, to realize that Helena would like to be a mother someday. It’s a revelation to Myka who has always seen Helena as independent and carefree, but whom she knows is equally loyal and caring. She slips her hand into Helena’s then, squeezing it gently. Helena turns quickly to look at their entwined fingers, then meets Myka’s eyes once more.

“What does she look like?” Myka gently encourages and feels her heart flutter at the smile that breaks out on Helena’s features at the question.

“She has dark hair like my own and her eyes are…” Helena stops abruptly, realizing the little dream girl’s eyes are the exact shade of green flecked with gold looking intently at her now; _Myka’s eyes_. “They’re bright and intelligent,” she hastily says instead. “Anyway, she’s a sweet little girl, and so inquisitive. She’s real to me, Myka,” she finishes softly. 

“If she’s your daughter, no doubt she’ll be as intelligent and beautiful as you are,” Myka speaks before she can rein in the words. Her eyes widen at the confession she has just made to Helena’s beauty, but Helena only laughs.

“Thank you, darling,” she says squeezing the hand in hers. “I’ve long suspected you found my appearance pleasing, but it’s nice to know for certain,” she smirks. 

Myka feels a blush creep up her neck once more and wonders what to do about Helena’s hand in hers, if she should continue holding on or let go, but is thankfully interrupted by the clerk calling for them. 

“Bering and Wells?”

They both stand then, their hands dropping at their sides as they step forward to collect their marriage license.

“Will you two be keeping your own names or sharing a name?” the clerk asks curiously once they approach the counter again. 

“Sharing,” Helena answers. “We’ve agreed upon Bering-Wells.”

“Wonderful,” the clerk beams in approval. “I know some couples like to keep their names, everyone is so independent these days it seems, but I’m a little old-fashioned that way and think families should have a common name. Makes it simpler too if any children should come along,” she winks at Myka who manages a weak smile in return.

“Now, no doubt you’re already aware, but once you’re actually married, the officiate will have you sign the marriage certificate with your new name, but that doesn’t legally change your name. You’ll have to go to the social security office to do that,” she explains.

“Yes, we’re aware,” Helena responds.

The clerk nods. “I just have to say again, you two just look like you belong together,” she gushes at them. “I’ve seen plenty of couples at this counter over the years, and I can tell, you two are going to make it.”

Helena glances at Myka, noticing her rubbing at her neck in embarrassment and smiles at the clerk. “That is very kind of you to say Ms…”

“Oh, my name’s Theodora, though everyone just calls me Ted,” she laughs.

“Thank you, Ted, you’re very kind,” Helena says sincerely. “Myka and I are fortunate to be in your esteem.”

“Yes, thank you,” Myka manages to speak, carefully taking the license from her and placing it in her satchel.

“Best wishes to you both,” Ted calls after them as she watches their retreating forms, Helena’s hand on the small of Myka’s back, guiding her through the doors into the cool autumn day. 

*** 

As Myka and Helena begin their descent down the courthouse steps, Helena broaches another topic. “I suppose we should consider obtaining wedding rings now.”

Myka stumbles on a step at the statement, feeling Helena’s hand under her arm to help steady her. “Thanks,” she says straightening. 

“I’m sorry if I startled you,” Helena apologizes.

“No, it’s fine,” Myka waves her off. “I just tripped, you know how clumsy I can be sometimes.”

“Indeed,” Helena agrees, her eyes shining with amusement. “I recall when you managed to spill red wine on my cashmere sweater at Thanksgiving two years ago at your family’s home.”

“That was an accident and I told you how sorry I was,” Myka says. 

“Over and over again, yes I remember,” Helena smiles. “Still, it was cashmere, and I bought it specifically to make a good impression on your family since you were kind enough to invite me.”

“You bought a sweater just for dinner with my family?” 

“Yes, I wanted to look my best.” 

“Well, sorry…again,” Myka says rubbing her neck awkwardly.

Helena laughs. “It’s fine. You were very sweet finding me something more suitable to wear for the rest of the evening. An old college sweatshirt I believe it was?” she asks, her eyes full of mirth.

Myka rolls her eyes. “It’s all the clothing I had left in my childhood bedroom and I don’t remember you complaining at the time.”

“No and I’m not now. Simply remembering. And then last year you slipped on the driveway just as we were leaving, managing to take me down with you in the process. I was sore for days.”

“You were sore? I was the one who bared the brunt of that fall with you landing on top of me,” Myka says blushing at the memory of Helena’s body pressed against hers for a few awkward moments while they tried to untangle from the fall. “And it was icy, if you’ll also remember.” 

“Yes, it was,” Helena acquiesces. “I’m just wondering what to expect for this year. Perhaps I should bring a change of clothes and a suit of armor.” 

“Or maybe I won’t bother to invite you this year and you won’t have to worry about either,” Myka returns haughtily.

“But you wouldn’t want to exclude your _wife_ from a family dinner,” Helena quips earning her a glare from Myka. “I’m sorry, darling, you’re just so easy to tease sometimes.”

Speaking seriously again, Helena says, “Now, about the matter at hand, the wedding rings…”

“Do you really think we should get rings, Helena?” Myka asks uneasily. “I mean, they aren’t necessary to get married…and it’s not like we’ll be wearing them anyway as they would only raise unwanted questions.”

“That is true,” Helena concedes. “However not having rings at the ceremony might also raise unwanted questions.”

Myka nods. “You’re probably right. What about the expense though? It’s a lot of money to spend on something neither of use will end up wearing.”

“I’m sure we can find something inexpensive to fit our needs,” Helena assures. “Shall we take the time now while we’re away from the office to go to a jeweler?”

It makes sense to take care of this errand while they’re already together but still Myka hesitates. She’s feeling like everything is hitting at once and suddenly finding it difficult to breathe under the weight of it all.

“I don’t know, Helena, I really should get back to the office…and we still have another day yet before the ceremony. Maybe we can plan on getting the rings tomorrow on our lunch break?” she asks hopefully.

Helena studies Myka carefully, sees the trepidation in her eyes and smiles gently. “Of course, darling, whatever you prefer.”

“Tomorrow then,” Myka breathes.

*** 

The appointment at the courthouse that morning only took an hour. Myka, at her desk by nine-thirty, falls into her chair oddly exhausted. Brushing a strand of curly hair from her face, she sighs heavily. Everything that happened this morning has finally taken its toll on her. Talk of marriage, name changes, children, rings…it had all suddenly become too much for Myka to withstand when Helena mentioned looking at wedding rings on the courthouse steps and Myka had to just slow down enough to breathe. She laughs at herself now as she realizes that if the mere thought of looking at wedding rings was enough to set her to panicking, however is she to survive the actual ceremony? 

Trying to put aside personal matters, she turns to her computer screen, intending to work, but instead stares blankly at the screen, watching the cursor mock her until she has to turn away, standing to look out the window instead. 

She watches in silence as rain begins to steadily fall, the drops splashing off the pavement below. Walkers hurry along the sidewalk, some with brightly colored umbrellas, some without. Cars move through traffic with a quiet ebb and flow viewed from her twelve-story window. But none of it matters. 

What matters is that she is planning to marry Helena in less than two days. She is going to marry Helena Wells. This is actually going to happen. The marriage license safe inside her satchel proves that it will happen. Myka is still uncertain how to feel about this turn of events. In some ways, it seems nothing more than a bizarre dream, because only in a dream would she ever willingly break the law to do this. Only in a dream would Helena want to marry her. And yet, this is no dream. Helena proposed a marriage between them and Myka is willing to break the law to keep Helena here, near her always. 

Myka sighs, dropping her forehead against the cool glass of the window, watching the rain continue to fall. Helena said nothing would have to change, but things will change; she can feel it. She only hopes she can endure it. 

“Hey, Mykes, everything okay?” 

Myka startles at the sound of Pete’s voice from the open doorway. She clears her throat as she quickly steps away from the window to sit at her desk. “Yeah, Pete, why?” she asks not glancing up to meet his eyes, focusing her attention instead on her computer screen. 

“I don’t know you seem a little distracted these last couple days. And this morning, you were gone for a while. It’s not like you. So, are you…okay?”

Myka slows at the typing she began as a distraction from Pete’s gentle interrogation, trying to come up with a valid explanation to set her friend at ease. Finally she stops typing altogether to meet Pete’s concerned stare. She smiles at the sight.

“I’m fine, Pete, I promise. I’ve had a…personal matter to attend to, but it’s taken care of.”

“You sure?”

“Absolutely. Now, get back to work, slacker,” she teases.

Pete retreats from her door with a shrug and Myka turns back to her computer, the cursor patiently waiting for her to begin again.


	3. Chapter 3

“Ready for our date?” Helena asks.

Myka looks up from her computer to see Helena in the doorway, a smile on her face and her coat folded over her arm as if ready to depart. 

“Uh, yeah, just give me a minute to finish up here?”

“Of course,” Helena assents, quietly stepping further into the office and studying Myka carefully. Watching the way her brow furrows slightly as she concentrates, the way her hair, that wondrously curly hair moves against her shoulders with every slight tilt of her head. The way she presses her lips together just so and…

“I can feel you staring at me, you know.”

“I wasn’t trying to hide it,” Helena answers unabashedly. “You are quite intriguing to watch,” she says unashamed to show her admiration of the other woman, especially when it earns her a flushed glare from Myka that sets Helena to chuckling.

“I’m ready now,” Myka says with a final click of the mouse before quickly rising from her chair and reaching for her coat, willing the familiar flutter in her stomach to abate as she pulls it on. “You ready then?” Myka asks as she turns to watch Helena put on her own coat.

“I’m always ready,” Helena returns lightly as she steps close to Myka. “Shall we then?” she asks, her dark eyes shining.

As Myka and Helena walk through the office together, Leena sees them on their way out, notices how close they walk together, almost close enough to touch. She smiles at the common sight, the way they gravitate towards each other without even realizing they do it. 

“I hope you two enjoy your time together,” Leena calls after them brightly, grinning, as they both seem to startle at her voice, completely unaware of anyone else but each other. 

“Oh, Leena, yes, Myka and I are stepping out for lunch and we may be a little late coming back,” Helena quickly explains. “If Mr. Kosan should call, please notify him I’ll return his call when I return. He’s anxious to know how the design of his book cover is coming along.”

“I’ll let him know,” Leena assures. “Enjoy your date,” she winks at them before turning away missing Helena’s raised brow and Myka’s gaping stare.

***

Myka hasn’t stepped inside a jewelry store in years, not since she was a teenager and her younger sister Tracy dragged her into one. Tracy, who was always fascinated with jewelry, clothes, make-up; all things Myka hardly bothered with. By contrast, Myka has never been one to wear much jewelry, only a watch on her wrist for practicality and a necklace every so often when she actually goes out for an evening. She is overwhelmed now by the variety of jewelry on display and doesn’t quite know where to begin.

Helena gently guides her to a counter and they stand close together looking over the glass at all the different rings laid out before them. Bands of gold, white gold, platinum, silver, rings with diamonds, pearls, amethyst, emeralds and any other stone imaginable. 

“It’s quite an impressive collection,” Helena says from beside her. “Do you see anything you like?”

“I think these are all too…elaborate for our needs, Helena,” Myka returns quietly.

“Good afternoon, ladies,” a friendly saleswoman greets them both with a firm handshake. “My name is Deb. Is there something I can help you find?”

“Yes,” Helena assents. “We’d like to have a look at wedding rings.”

“Which of you is the lucky bride to be?”

“Actually, Myka and I are marrying each other,” Helena says gently grasping Myka’s hand in hers and entwining their fingers. 

“Wonderful,” the saleswoman beams at them. “I thought you might be a couple judging by the way you just seem to move toward each other like people in love tend to do,” she winks, “but I didn’t want to assume anything,” she smiles at them. 

Myka meets Helena’s eyes briefly before glancing away with embarrassment. She tries not to take Deb’s comment seriously. She knows the saleswoman likely works on commission and complimenting couples is just part of the job. Most couples are really in love with each other and are intending to marry for real, forever. Deb has no way of knowing Myka’s marriage to Helena is nothing more than a legality to keep her in the country.

“Any kind of ring in particular you have in mind?” Deb asks.

“Just something simple,” Myka speaks and wonders that she manages to speak at all given how dry her throat has suddenly become from both the saleswoman’s words and Helena’s hand in hers.

“Simple…as in just a band and no stones?” she guesses.

“Yes,” Helena agrees, “a plain wedding band is all we need.”

Deb leads them to a case full of wedding bands of all different metals, color and width. “Are you looking to find a wedding band to match an engagement ring?” she asks.

“No, we haven’t really been engaged that long, only since Monday morning, in fact,” Helena says almost apologetically. “We’ve just decided to forgo the engagement and get married tomorrow.” 

“Oh. That’s a little unusual, especially these days,” Deb says surprised. “It seems like everyone wants a big wedding. Couples, they sometimes forget the real reason for the wedding in the first place, their love for each other. It’s refreshing to have you ladies know what really matters,” she smiles at them, smiling wider as she notices the way they look at each other, their stare soft and lingering before they glance away bashfully.

“So, would you like to wear matching rings then or each choose your own based on personal preference?” Deb asks already guessing their answer. 

Myka and Helena look at one another questioningly. “I’ve always kind of liked the idea of a married couple wearing matching rings…but it’s whatever you’d like, Helena,” Myka says, a hand playing at her neck awkwardly.

Helena smiles warmly at the sight, squeezing Myka’s hand gently to offer comfort. “I’d prefer we wear matching rings as well, darling,” she says.

“Excellent,” Deb enthuses, effectively breaking the stare between the two women. “Then all you need to do now is agree on which ring you both like.”

Helena and Myka devote their attention to the rings in the case for several long moments and almost simultaneously choose the same one, a simple wedding band of white gold. 

Deb looks at them startled, then smiles wide. “If you only knew how often it usually takes a couple to agree on matching rings,” she laughs shaking her head. “I can see you two are a definitely special.”

“Yes, well, Myka and I are alike in many ways, it’s not too surprising we would have the same taste in wedding rings,” Helena smiles, clearly pleased.

After a quick fitting, Deb moves away to package the rings leaving the two women alone. Helena pulls out her credit card and is surprised to observe Myka doing the same.

“Darling, what are you doing?” she asks concerned.

“I’m paying for your ring.”

Helena shakes her head. “Myka, no, I’ll pay for both rings. It’s because of me that we have to get rings at all,” she argues. 

“Helena,” Myka sighs, “I know this isn’t a real wedding in the traditional sense, but it is still a wedding, your wedding, and I’m not going to let you pay for your own ring. It just seems…wrong to me,” she finishes distractedly brushing a curl from her face.

Helena is completely awed by the woman before her, at Myka looking at her with those green eyes, so intent in her purpose. An involuntary smile twitches at her lips at the sight of Myka looking so adamant.

“All right, as you wish,” she concedes and Myka nods her satisfaction. 

Helena continues to observe Myka silently, feeling an emotion well within her chest that she can’t quite put a name to. “Thank you for this, Myka,” Helena says so softly it’s barely audible, but Myka hears her.

“You’re welcome, Helena,” she answers just as softly.

***

That evening, Myka sits on her sofa, her laptop open on the coffee table, a marked up manuscript sitting beside it, but she’s not working. Instead, she stares blankly at the walls of her apartment, her mind whirling with all the scenarios in which this impending marriage can possibly go wrong, before her gaze focuses on the little black box sitting on the edge of the table. Strumming her fingers along her leg for several minutes, she finally grasps the box to open it and peer inside at the ring, Helena’s ring. Tomorrow evening at this time, the ring will be worn by Helena because they will be legally married. And somewhere in Helena’s possession is a matching ring that she will wear because they will be married. Actually, legally, _married_.

So lost in her thoughts, Myka startles at the sound of a knock on her door. She quickly pockets the ring and rising, opens the door to find Pete on the other side.

“Pete, what are you doing here?” she asks truly surprised. “Tonight’s not a scheduled movie night.”

“I know it’s not, but you’ve been acting strange the last few days so I thought I’d drop by to see if I can find out why.”

“Pete, I’m fine,” she scoffs folding her arms over her t-shirt clad chest. 

“Fine then, just have dinner with me. Amanda’s got some work function tonight and I don’t want to eat alone, so I brought over food to share. A scrumptious double bacon cheeseburger with fries for me and that bunny food you eat,” he says holding up a fast-food bag with grease patches.

“Your greasy burger better not have touched my bunny food, Lattimer,” she says stepping aside to allow Pete inside her apartment.

“Ah, that’s my girl,” he brushes a quick kiss against her cheek as he moves quickly inside towards the sofa.

“Pete!” 

He immediately changes course towards the small circular table in the kitchen. “Right, not allowed to eat on your sofa anymore after the pizza fiasco, got it,” he nods throwing a leg over a chair to sit down and begins to unpack the food.

Myka just shakes her head in amusement as Pete takes a generous bite of his burger, sauce spilling onto his face. She tears off paper towels from the dispenser and hands him one. 

“You want something to drink?” she asks opening the door to her fridge. “Cream soda?” 

“Sure, thanks,” he mumbles taking the can from her as she finally sits down with her own bottled water and begins to unwrap her turkey wrap. 

They eat in companionable silence, Myka occasionally stealing a fry and Pete pretending to be annoyed by it. 

“So, what’s going on with you, Mykes?” Pete asks as he wipes his face clean and balls up the paper towel and food wrapper, putting them in the empty food bag. 

“Nothing is going on with me, Pete,” she tries to convince him, rising from her chair and clearing the table, turning away at the sink to throw away the trash. 

He shakes his head. “Not buying it. Something is bothering you. Come on, Mykes, you know you can tell me anything right?” 

Myka wishes that were true, but she most certainly cannot tell him about her impending marriage to Helena. Still, she does have to tell him something or else he won’t let it go.

“I’ve just got a lot on my mind right now. You know how work can be sometimes.”

“Yeah,” Pete nods. “But I also know you, Myka, and you thrive on work. No, it’s something else that’s bothering you. Everything okay with your family?”

“Yeah, they’re fine. Tracy is already in her third trimester. I still can’t believe she’s going to be a mom and I’m going to be an aunt,” she says shaking her head in awe. 

“Is that it? That your younger sister is going to have kids before you?” Pete guesses.

Myka scoffs. “You know, sometimes it’s like you don’t know me at all. I’m not you, Pete, I’m not looking to have children right now.”

“Hey, now,” he whines. 

“True though isn’t it? You’re the one who wants to be a dad,” Myka says hoping the new topic is enough to distract Pete from questioning her further about what’s worrying her.

“Yeah,” Pete agrees, “I do. And I think Amanda may be the one to make that happen with,” he says dreamily.

“Really? That’s great, Pete. So, you’re actually going to finally tie the knot then?”

Pete shrugs. “Yeah, I mean, I’d like to. I think it must be pretty great to share a life with someone you love and who loves you.”

“Yeah, I’m sure it must be,” Myka says contemplatively, her fingers lightly brushing against the ring in her pocket. Clearing her throat she asks, “Well, does Amanda want to get married?”

“I think she does. But in some ways, she’s like you, really focused on her career. We’ve talked about having kids though, and she does want them eventually and…and I see what you’re doing here,” Pete suddenly shakes a finger at her. “I didn’t come here to discuss my love life, I came here to find out what’s bothering you and try to help. So spill it.”

Myka sighs, rubbing at her neck. “Okay, I admit…there may be something I have on my mind right now, but I’m working it out on my own, Pete. You don’t need to worry about me.”

Pete looks at her critically. “You sure?”

“Yeah,” she smiles, “I’m sure, but thanks, Pete.”

He nods. “All right then. But if you decide you want someone to listen…or you do need help with something…”

“You’ll be the first I call, I promise,” Myka agrees.

When Pete finally leaves, Myka sits back on her sofa, relishing the now quiet of her apartment. She loves Pete like a brother, but sometimes he’s just too much, filling up every space and crevice with his exuberance when she would prefer to just be still.

Taking the little box from her pocket, Myka opens it to peer at the ring once more, touching it reverently, feeling the cool of the metal against her fingertip. This time tomorrow evening, she’ll be a married woman. She’s still uncertain how she feels about that and wonders how Helena feels about it.

Startling at the vibration of her phone ringing, Myka glances at the screen and smiles when she sees who is calling.

“Helena?”

“Hello, Myka.”

“Is everything all right?”

“Yes, of course. I was…” she falters.

“Helena?” Myka prods and she hears a sigh of resignation over the phone.

“I happened to be looking at your ring,” Helena admits, “and wondered what your feelings are about tomorrow.”

Myka laughs. “Actually, I’ve been doing the same thing, looking at your ring and wondering what you’re feeling.”

“Really?” Helena sounds astonished. “I shouldn’t be surprised, we really are quite alike you and I, aren’t we?”

“We are,” Myka agrees. 

“And how do you feel about all this, Myka? Still want to go through with it?”

“Yeah, as long as you do, Helena.” 

“I would rather continue with my life here in Denver,” Helena says, “but how do you really feel about this marriage, Myka?”

Myka sighs. “Truthfully, it’s all feels surreal to me right now, and I can’t quite grasp that this is actually going to happen.”

Helena laughs softly. “Yes, I know the feeling,” she agrees. “Well, I…I have the appointment set up with the judge…I’m not sure if I mentioned that before.”

“You did; and I’ve already informed Artie we’ll be leaving early tomorrow.”

“Good. Then, if you’re still certain about this…I guess we’ll be married tomorrow.”

“Yeah, I guess we will,” and Myka agrees.

“Thank you again for this, Myka,” Helena speaks low and soft. “Goodnight, darling, sweet dreams.”

“Goodnight, Helena,” Myka replies softly before setting her phone down. 

With one last glance at the ring, Myka closes the box, knowing sleep will be long in coming this night.


	4. Chapter 4

Thursday morning comes much too quickly as Myka knew it would. She rises from her bed as soon as her alarm sounds and blearily rubs at her eyes before stretching her long body as she steps into the bathroom to brush her teeth and shower. As she pats her hair dry, she catches her reflection in the mirror and suddenly realizes this is her wedding day. She feels her stomach flutter at the thought. She is going to marry Helena Wells, the most beautiful, incredible, and often infuriating, woman she knows. 

Pursuing her closet, she considers what to wear for the day. Normally, she would grab whatever button-down blouse and slacks are up for rotation, but she and Helena are planning to leave work at four o’clock to go to the courthouse together and Myka isn’t planning to come home first to change for the wedding. A pantsuit hardly seems appropriate to her to get married in, even if the marriage is just a formality to keep Helena in the country. She briefly considers the very few dresses she has. There is a red dress that she decides is certainly too flashy for either work or a wedding and a little black dress, that while could be worn to work, seems out of place for a wedding. Myka sighs at her lack of suitable attire and finally settles on a light blue pencil skirt that falls just below her knees and a simple white blouse. She’s mildly content that the ensemble will be appropriate for a working day to be followed by a brief wedding.

Trying to calm her stomach, Myka fixes a light breakfast of coffee, toast and jam, and settling at the kitchen counter, tries to concentrate on reading the morning news on her tablet. She gives up in defeat when her attention is constantly drawn to the little black box sitting on the counter in front of her. She hasn’t let the ring out of her sight since coming home the night before, and feels its presence keenly. 

With an air of resignation, she stands to brush the crumbs from her skirt and settles a shaky hand against her stomach as if the touch alone will settle the fluttering there. She silently tells herself, _‘You can do this. Helena is your best friend whom you love and trust. It’s just a simple ceremony, nothing to be nervous about.’_ She audibly laughs at the thought, knowing nothing is so simple, especially where Helena is concerned. 

Deciding work will serve for a good distraction from her current thoughts, Myka hurriedly places her plate in the dishwasher and pours the remaining coffee in a to-go mug. She gathers her coat and satchel, putting them on and then grasps the little black box from the counter. Opening it briefly, she makes sure the ring is still snug inside before carefully placing it in her satchel. Grabbing her keys she finally leaves the apartment, hoping to leave behind any more unsettling thoughts.

***

“You’re here earlier than usual. What’s the occasion?” Leena asks, her smile wide.

Myka startles at the sound of Leena’s sweet voice. “Yeah, I’m planning to leave early tonight, so thought I should come in a little early to make up for it,” she explains as she mentally berates herself for thinking a change of location would be enough to distract her from what will take place in mere hours. She’s been working for nearly an hour all ready, but thoughts of the wedding continue to persist. 

Leena shakes her head. “Myka, you work too hard. You’re entitled to take some time away from the office without having to make up the time,” she gently chastises.

Myka shrugs. “The work still has to be done and I enjoy it.”

“I know you do, and you’re very good at your job. I just wish you’d take more time for yourself, Myka. You’re always working. I hope whatever you’ve got planned tonight has nothing to do with work and is something that will bring you pleasure.”

“Yeah,” Myka breathes unable to truthfully answer that her plans aren’t work-related. After all, the wedding is to keep Helena working and living in Denver. 

“Is there a meeting this morning I wasn’t made aware of?” Artie grumbles appearing in the doorway. 

“Good morning to you too, Artie,” Leena bemoans.

“I’m sorry, yes, good morning, Leena, Myka,” he nods. “Satisfied?” he questions, quirking an eyebrow at Leena.

She rolls her eyes and smiles at him. “It’s better than a poke in the eye, though not by much.”

Artie ignores her comment. “When Pete arrives, tell him I want to see him to discuss the marketing for Dupree’s novel. We’ve got to make sure it hits the major booksellers.”

“I’ll let him know,” Leena says offering Myka a final smile before departing.

Artie steps inside Myka’s office then and closes the door behind him. “So, today’s the big day then?”

“It is,” Myka agrees.

Artie nods. “Mrs. Frederic asked me to extend her congratulations and best wishes.”

“That’s kind of her.”

“And I too…want to…well…wish you good luck, Myka,” he stutters.

“Thanks, Artie,” Myka says oddly touched by his obvious sincerity.

“Yes, well enough of that sentimentality,” he bristles. “Is everything on schedule for St. Clair’s novel?”

“Yes, I have the final draft now, ready to send it to print.”

“Good,” is all he says before opening the door to retreat to his own office, leaving Myka shaking her head in fondness for her gruff but loveable boss.

***

When Myka steps into the break room for a much needed second cup of coffee that morning, it is to find Helena there, fixing tea, Claudia animatedly telling her about the new book design for Adwin Kosan’s latest adventure novel.

“Morning, Claud, Helena,” she greets them with a slight nod as she moves to the counter to pour a cup of coffee.

Helena turns at the sound of Myka’s voice and is met with a shy smile and a sight to behold. Myka’s hair is let down as usual, brunette curls tumbling over slender shoulders clad in a white blouse that looks soft to the touch. But it is the light blue pencil skirt that has Helena staring open mouthed. A pencil skirt, that reveals Myka’s shapely calves that sets Helena’s heart to racing and makes her forget the task at hand, managing to spill hot tea down the front of her own blouse.

“Oh bollocks!” she cries as the burning liquid seeps through her thin shirt to touch sensitive skin.

Myka rushes to the sink to dampen a paper towel with cool water, quickly offering it to Helena.

“Thank you, darling,” she says taking the towel to apply it to herself. 

“Whoa, Myka! What’s the occasion?” Claudia asks impressed, noticing Myka is wearing a skirt for the first time since…she can’t remember when.

“There’s no occasion,” Claud,” Myka answers, a faint blush tinting her cheeks as she catches Helena’s gaze from under dark lashes. “I just felt like wearing something…different today.”

Claudia looks at Helena who remains oddly quiet after her initial curse, but who stares intently at Myka. Claudia looks back at Myka who gazes at Helena, her cheeks looking slightly flushed. Claudia looks again at Helena who appears to have a slight flush to her face as well, her mouth partially open in a look of awe.

Practically seeing the electricity between the two women, Claudia very slowly and discreetly exits the break room, neither woman taking notice of her silent escape.

“Looks like I’m not the only one who can be clumsy,” Myka finally remarks pointedly observing the stain of Helena’s shirt with a grin.

Helena looks down at her shirt and frowns. “Yes, well, if you hadn’t managed to distract me.”

“I see, it’s my fault then,” Myka says trying to sound annoyed but laughs instead.

“Absolutely,” Helena agrees still staring intently. “Myka,” she breathes, “you look lovely.”

“Thanks,” Myka says grasping her neck, noticing Helena wears her usual trousers and button-down shirt, the top three buttons left distractingly unbuttoned as usual.

Helena follows Myka’s gaze and looks down at her own ensemble. “Not to worry, I won’t be wearing these clothes this evening I assure you. Especially now that I’ve managed to spill tea on them.”

“It wouldn’t matter to me if you did, Helena. “I’m marrying you, not your clothes,” Myka says then gasps at her slip and turns around to make sure no one else was present to hear her mention ‘marrying’.

Helena chuckles. “It appears we’re alone. Claudia seems to have vanished.”

“I didn’t even see her leave,” Myka admits.

“Nor I. My attention was drawn elsewhere,” Helena says as her dark eyes roam the length of Myka’s figure, causing the woman of interest to stammer under her appreciative gaze.

“So, everything still on for this evening then?” Myka asks, folding her arms across her chest.

“Yes, I’ll meet you in your office at four as planned. Until then…” Helena says with a smile before leaving the room. Myka watches her go and as she turns back for her coffee, notices Helena’s tea still sits on the counter, long forgotten. 

***

Myka doesn’t see Helena again until she saunters into her office at four, just as planned, wearing a flowing floral dress and Myka finds she’s unable to draw her eyes away from Helena at the moment, looking so resplendent in such a simple dress. Helena smiles at her, clearly noticing her admiration.

“Ready to get married, darling?” she smirks. 

Myka’s heartbeat picks up speed at the question and she quickly begins to shuffle papers back in place. “Sure, just give me a minute to clear my desk,” she answers as if the question posed is normal and her life isn’t about to take a profound change.

Helena nods and watches as Myka moves about her office, collects her belongings and then steps out into the main office space to leave last instructions with Pete.

“Mykes, you’re leaving early?” he asks surprised. 

“Yeah, I sent you an email, Pete, didn’t you read it?”

“Guess not. So, you have plans then? Care to share with the class?” he grins.

“Yes, I have plans, and no, I don’t care to share. See you tomorrow, Pete,” she says as she moves towards the door where Helena now waits for her.

“So, any bets on what’s going on between those two?” Claudia asks siding up to Pete as she observes the two women leave together. 

“What do you mean?” Pete asks.

“Come on, dude, you must have noticed. Myka was wearing a skirt. I can count on one hand the number of times I’ve seen her wear a skirt to work. And HG, she was wearing slacks this morning, but when she and Myka left, she was wearing a dress.”

“So…what, you think they’re dating?”

“It would make sense,” Steve adds his two cents.

“I hope for their sake they are,” Leena mentions. “The looks shared between them have taken on an intensity I don’t know they’ll survive if they don’t do something soon to relieve all that…tension,” she grins.

“You’re telling me,” Claudia intones. “I almost got caught in the direct line of fire this morning in the break room. HG looked like she wanted to devour Myka right there.”

“Claudia, really?” Steve chastises.

“I’m telling you, sparks were majorly flying between them.” 

“Myka and HG…dating? Huh,” is all Pete can say as he contemplates the thought.

***

The courthouse is surprisingly busy for a Thursday evening, but then, maybe it always is, Myka considers. She’s never had occasion to visit the establishment before tonight. It’s also rather surprising she and Helena are not the only ones to be married. Most are young kids, likely college age. There are a few older couples as well, but as far as Myka can tell, she and Helena are the only same sex couple to be married here tonight.

They end up having to wait nearly a half hour before they can see the judge. Myka sits alongside Helena on a bench outside the chambers, her long legs crossed at the ankle, one foot moving up and down nervously. She isn’t even aware of the movement until Helena gently places her hand on her knee and looks at her with a gentle smile.

“There’s no need to be nervous, Myka. It’s just a few simple words spoken, signing some papers, and then it’ll all be over.”

It’s the simple words that have Myka worried. She’s supposed to pledge her love and devotion to the woman beside her under the law. It makes her more than a little nervous. Not to mention the said pledge is meant to be for a lifetime, despite their plan to annul the marriage in three months.

Myka silently nods and before she can say any more on the subject they’re called into the judge’s chambers for the simple ceremony.

The only word Myka can think of to describe Judge Hugo Miller is eccentric. An older gentleman, he seems to be energetic, excitable and a bit…no other word for it, eccentric.

“Ah, my last newlyweds for the evening,” he greets the two women. “And I must say, the best looking by far,” he smiles kindly. 

Helena laughs. “Thank you, sir,” she says taking his outstretched hand in a firm handshake.

“My papers say I’m to marry Helena Wells and Myka Bering. Before I marry anyone, I like to learn something about the couple. How long have you two known each other?”

“Three years,” Myka answers.

“Ah, and how did you meet?”

“At work,” Helena replies. “We’re both editors at a publishing company.”

“I see, a case of workplace romance,” he nods approvingly. “Good for you. I must say, you look like a couple deeply in love, and I’m sure your life together will be promising.”

Helena casts an amused glance at Myka at his words but her smile falters under the weak smile Myka returns to her.

“Well, let’s get this show on the road then,” Hugo claps his hands together excitedly. “Did you happen to bring a wedding party with you to witness the ceremony?” he asks looking around the women as if expecting to see their family and friends all turn up.

“No,” Helena falters, her eyes still drawn to Myka with concern. “We thought to elope instead, just the two of us.”

“That is more romantic,” Hugo agrees. “But then I wonder why you would decide to marry here rather than some exotic destination?”

Myka swallows hard. “Deadlines. Too many deadlines to fulfill right now, but we didn’t want that to get in the way of our plans to marry.”

“That’s right,” Helena agrees, picking up her lead. “And anyway, we’ll likely honeymoon somewhere a bit more exciting eventually.”

“Ah, very good,” Hugo nods approvingly. “I’ll just call in the clerk and secretary then to witness the ceremony.

Hugo leaves the chambers briefly to collect the witnesses and Helena steps forward to grasp Myka’s hand. “Are you absolutely certain you’re all right with this, Myka?” she asks softly.

Myka has found breathing to be difficult since they entered the chambers, but now that she’s looking into Helena’s dark brown eyes so full of concern for her, she feels her breathing begin to even out a little, the erratic beating of her heart beginning to slow.

“I’m fine,” she assures. “I want to do this, Helena,” she speaks truthfully, because honestly, Myka does want to marry Helena. Her feelings for the woman before her are not something she can easily quantify or explain. She just knows she cares about her and would do anything in her power for Helena and in this moment, that means marrying her.

Hugo steps back into the chambers with his secretary and the clerk in tow. Ted beams at them when she enters the room. 

A brief panic rises in Myka’s chest at the sight of the familiar face.

“Bering-Wells,” Ted says excitedly. “It’s not often I get a chance to stand in as a witness, but I must say, I’m honored to attend the wedding of such a beautiful couple.” 

“Thank you,” Helena manages to speak. “We’re grateful to have you here as well,” she says squeezing Myka’s hand in hers comfortingly. 

“I see you’re ready to begin,” Hugo says noticing their joined hands. “Very good.” He steps before them, grasping the reading glasses on a chain around his neck to put them on. “Let’s see now…do you have rings?”

“Yes,” Helena replies as both she and Myka grasp for the rings.

“Good. Now, do you have written vows, or would you just like to use the usual ceremonial words?”

Myka feels her panic steadily rising once more. 

“I think the usual words will suffice,” Helena speaks calmly, brushing her thumb across Myka’s knuckles in reassurance.

“Very well,” Hugo acquiesces. Clearing his throat, he begins to speak the words he knows by heart. “Do you Helena Wells take this woman, Myka Bering to be your lawfully wedded wife? Do you vow to love, honor, cherish and keep her all the days of your life?”

“I do,” Helena speaks seriously, her eyes never wavering from Myka’s as she slips the ring on her finger. 

Myka feels her mouth go dry and her eyes unaccountably tear up at the solemnity of the moment. She knows this ceremony is nothing more than a necessity, but the way Helena is looking at her, almost has Myka believing it’s more than necessity…that maybe there is some desire there? Surely not, she quickly shakes her head to clear it of those dangerous thoughts and concentrates instead on Judge Miller’s words. 

“Do you Myka Bering take this woman, Helena Wells to be your lawfully wedded wife? Do you vow to love, honor, cherish and keep her all the days of your life?”

Myka is startled by how quickly the words, “I do,” spill from her lips. Helena quirks a brow and offers her a smile that leaves Myka feeling a blush seeping into her cheeks as she places the ring on Helena’s finger.

A blush that only intensifies as Judge Miller declares them married and may now kiss. And honestly, with everything else she considered, Myka never even thought about the traditional kiss at the end of the ceremony. She looks to Judge Miller who grins and nods encouragingly at her before she turns wide, panicked eyes on Helena, beseeching her to charm her way out of this awkward moment.

But Helena doesn’t say a word. Instead Helena steps forward, gently places her palm along Myka’s cheek, guiding her slightly downward to press soft lips against Myka’s own in a breathless kiss.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading!

The kiss is softer and sweeter than Myka could have ever imagined. Helena’s lips are warm and pliant as they move against hers and for one brief second, Myka loses herself in the moment, almost forgets herself, forgets everything but Helena kissing her. She very nearly moves on instinct to step closer to Helena, to wrap an arm around her and weave her fingers through that silky hair, but before she has the chance, Myka hears a click and sees a flash of light behind closed eyelids. She pulls away from the kiss startled, blinking her eyes open, watching as Helena’s eyes flutter open and she slowly removes her hand from Myka’s cheek to rest down to her side. 

The expression on Helena’s face is one that Myka can’t quite decipher as the raven beauty opens her mouth as if to say something, but when no words come forth, quickly closes it again. Myka slowly exhales, trying to get her bearings, finding the task difficult to accomplish now that she has learned a very important fact about herself. She doesn’t love Helena; she is _in love_ with Helena. 

It’s not such a surprise, not really. She has long suspected that her feelings for Helena went beyond mere friendship, but now to know for certain she is in love with Helena…Myka is uncertain what to do with that knowledge. 

She doesn’t have the time to process her current state however, as another click and flash go off, effectively breaking her stare with Helena to look in the direction of the interruption. Judge Miller stands with a camera in his hands grinning. 

“I thought you might like to have a picture,” he says jovially. “It seemed a shame if you didn’t have a picture to commemorate this joyous occasion and you both make a very fine picture. I’ll be sure to send you copies in the mail.”

“That’s…very thoughtful of you,” Helena manages to speak and perhaps Myka is just imagining it, but her voice sounds slightly huskier than usual.

“One more picture now with you two actually facing the camera rather than each other,” he winks.

Myka and Helena do as told, standing to face the camera but careful not to touch.

“Come on now, get closer like before,” he directs them. “You’re married and in love after all.”

Myka clears her throat as Helena offers her an apologetic smile as she slips her arm around Myka’s waist to pull her close. Myka carefully reciprocates the gesture, slipping her arm around Helena’s slim waist.

“That’s it,” Hugo says gleefully before he’s snapping another photo. “What a lovely couple you make.”

At last finished with the picture taking, the newlyweds break apart with shy smiles.

“Ah, you’re both so beautiful. Congratulations,” Ted enthuses, pulling each woman into a brief hug.

“Thank you,” Myka says, still slightly breathless by the recent events.

“All you need to do now is sign the certificate and be on your way,” Hugo remarks, stepping behind his desk and offering a pen. 

Myka takes the pen first, her hand trembling ever so slightly as she carefully, deliberately spells out Myka Bering-Wells, glancing at the ring now residing on her finger as she steadies the paper. The name looks both foreign and familiar, but as she stares at the name she just signed, she smiles as she realizes it’s still her name and now it’s also Helena’s name.

Helena’s fingers brush Myka’s as she takes the pen offered her before writing in a firm hand, Helena Bering-Wells. She takes a moment to look over the new name, appreciating its look on the certificate. 

“Very good, I’ll have this filed for you,” Hugo says taking the certificate. “Best wishes to you both,” he says with a final congratulatory handshake for each woman. “May you have a lifetime of happiness ahead of you.” 

***

As the women leave the courthouse, they pause on the steps, the cool evening air seeping around them as both grasp for something to say.

“I’m sorry about the kiss, Myka,” Helena begins. “I didn’t intend to make you uncomfortable, but when the judge pronounced us married and may now kiss…I didn’t know what else to do,” she confesses. “To try to talk a way out of it…somehow didn’t seem appropriate for the occasion.”

“It’s fine, Helena,” Myka says quickly, trying to bury the sudden hurt she feels, knowing the kiss was nothing more than a conventionality to Helena; then berates herself with a shake of her brunette curls. Of course the kiss was nothing more than convention, Helena isn’t in love with her. This entire marriage is nothing more than a solution to keep Helena from being deported. She knew all this when she agreed to the marriage. 

“It was just a kiss,” Myka continues, her words belying her true feelings. In fact the kiss has served as the culmination to make her realize she’s hopelessly in love with the woman standing before her now, looking at her with those indescribably dark eyes that once more reflect an emotion in their depths that Myka can’t quite interpret. 

“Yes, just a kiss,” Helena says softly. 

“So, I guess I’ll see you at work tomorrow?” Myka asks, taking a step backward from Helena, already trying to distance herself and be just the same friend she’s always been. 

“Actually, I wondered if I may take you to dinner to celebrate this momentous occasion?” 

“Oh, Helena, you don’t have to do that,” Myka replies embarrassed.

“I want to, Myka, please let me,” Helena speaks sincerely. 

Myka falters under the plea. “Really, you don’t have to,” she tries again.

“The truth is, darling, I’ve already made reservations,” and Helena’s voice has a hopeful lilt to it as she makes the confession. 

“You have?” Myka asks completely taken off guard.

“Yes. You married me to help me, dinner seems like the least I can do.”

“You make it sound as if it was some sort of hardship…marrying you,” Myka speaks awkwardly.

“It isn’t?” Helena asks with a slight smirk.

“No. I mean...it doesn’t change anything…between us. Right?” Myka asks with baited breath, not sure how she wants Helena to answer. If things remain the same, their friendships is firmly in tact, but if things could change…for the better…

“Right,” Helena quickly agrees snapping Myka from her musings. “At any rate, I did make reservations and I’d rather they not go to waste.”

“You could eat alone,” Myka points out and she doesn’t know why she’s hesitant to have dinner with Helena. They’ve shared so many meals together over the years, why should this be any different? But it is different now, because this is the first time she will dine with Helena knowing she’s in love with her…and married to her. 

“Oh, yes, I suppose that’s true. I just thought…it is our wedding night after all. I guess I didn’t consider you might have other plans for this evening.”

“I don’t have any other plans,” Myka admits and though part of her wants to escape to the comfort of her apartment to process her newly realized feelings for Helena, a larger part of her wants nothing more than to spend the evening with her. 

“Shall we then?” Helena asks with a smile. 

Myka simply nods her head in assent and falls into step beside her.

***

“So, what exactly is your ideal honeymoon?” Helena asks after they have ordered their meal. 

Myka nearly chokes on her wine at the question and catches Helena’s smirk at her reaction. “Really? This is what you want to talk about?” she asks incredulous.

“Well, you must admit, the topic does suit the occasion and…I’m curious,” she says with a smirk. 

Myka sighs heavily. “I don’t know. I guess I’ve never really given it much thought. There never seemed reason to.”

“That can’t possibly be true. I think you’re just holding out on me.”

“What’s your ideal honeymoon then?” Myka diverts. 

“Oh, I don’t know, perhaps somewhere exotic. A place where the heat of the climate will bring out another kind of heat,” she grins.

Myka flushes at the implication, biting her lip. “Exotic sounds compelling, but I think I’d almost like the opposite better. Find a remote cabin somewhere, get snowed in with nothing but books, a fireplace and each other,” she smiles into her wine thoughtfully.

“That does sound lovely,” Helena agrees, her voice raspier than normal as she imagines Myka’s description. She clears her throat before speaking, “Well then, onto more general topics. Do you have any plans for the weekend?”

“Yeah,” Myka nods. “Tracy and my mom are planning to drive here on Saturday to drag me with them to shop for baby items.”

“Drag you?” Helena quirks a brow in amusement.

Myka shrugs. “Shopping isn’t really my thing, as you know. For some reason Tracy is under the impression there is a larger selection of baby items in Denver than Colorado Springs. Personally I think she’s delusional,” Myka says before taking another sip of wine.

Helena chuckles. “Perhaps she just wants to include you in this rather eventful time in her life.”

Myka sighs. “Yeah, that’s kind of what I figured too, which is why I will be giving up my leisure time to spend it shopping with her.”

“I’ve seen you spend hours on end in a bookstore, darling,” Helena gently chastises with a grin.

“Those are books! That is leisure time for me, to browse through a bookstore, to sit in plush chairs, sipping coffee and getting lost in a story,” Myka argues. “It’s not shopping, it’s an experience.” 

Helena laughs. “I see. And if you should happen to purchase any…experience, is it not considered shopping then?”

Myka glares at Helena who only smirks in return. “You’re just toying with me now. I know you’d rather spend time in a bookstore than in some crowded mall.”

“Always, darling,” she agrees with a smirk. “However, I suppose I will eventually have to drag myself to such a place to find a gift for Tracy and the baby.”

“Oh, you don’t have to do that,” Myka quickly protests.

“Of course I do. I like Tracy and I’m happy for her. Besides, technically she’s my sister now too,” Helena says, her dark eyes shining.

Myka grasps at her neck under Helena’s gaze. “Yeah, I guess she is,” and she briefly wonders what Tracy would think if she knew about her sudden marriage to Helena. She further wonders what her parents would think of it as her thumb gently traces the still unfamiliar ring on her finger. Ultimately, it doesn’t matter for they will never know and the marriage will be annulled in a few short months as if it never took place. 

“Are you all right?” Helena asks concerned seeing Myka lost in contemplation.

Shifting in her chair at the sound of Helena’s voice breaking her train of thought, Myka manages a brief smile. “I’m fine,” she tries to assure but the way Helena is still looking at her says that Helena isn’t convinced. 

“Actually, I was just wondering what my family would think if they knew of our marriage,” Myka says with a slight laugh.

“I’d imagine they’d be quite surprised,” Helena comments, “but I hope not entirely displeased.”

“They love you, you know they do. But they know you as my coworker and friend. More than that…yeah, I think surprise would be an understatement,” Myka says with a soft smile.

“Well then, here’s to being coworkers and friends then,” Helena says raising her glass before taking a long sip. 

The remainder of dinner passes pleasantly with the easy familiarity of friends who know each other better than anyone else. Myka is grateful for that familiarity but also can’t help desiring more as she listens to Helena’s voice, watches the way her dark eyes shine in the soft light, the way long fingers filter through her hair. Myka wonders at how she managed to convince herself for so long that her feelings for Helena were nothing more than friendship. 

Helena is the most intelligent, witty, and breathtakingly beautiful woman Myka has ever known; and now she’s married to her. That fact should fill her with pleasure at the happy coincidence to learn she’s in love with the woman she just married, but Myka knows this marriage is only a façade. Their friendship is real though, and Myka will do whatever it takes to keep it rooted firmly in place, which means keeping things as they are, keeping silent about the love she feels. 

***

Inside her apartment, Helena closes the door firmly behind her and leans against it for several long moments, just breathing in and breathing out. 

She kissed Myka tonight. Actually kissed her, brief as it was. She knew a kiss between them was likely to happen, marriage ceremonies being what they are, but still, nothing could have prepared her for the feel of Myka’s soft lips against her own, how right it felt to be kissing her. 

Finally moving away from the door, she removes her coat, laying in along the arm of the sofa before slipping out of her heels to walk barefooted into her bedroom. Her movements are languid as she removes her dress and hangs it in the closet as she contemplates the events of the evening. The wedding had been simple and oddly satisfying. Judge Miller had been quite a character and Ted was sweet. But Myka had been absolutely breathtaking. She had looked stunning wearing the simple skirt and blouse, so much so Helena found herself hardly able to draw her eyes away from her all evening. And their shared kiss…she feels a pleasant pull in her stomach at the memory. After her initial surprise, Myka had returned the kiss with a gentle intensity Helena did not expect. The feeling of Myka’s soft lips against hers caused a desire to stir so strongly, Helena wanted nothing more than to tangle her fingers in those glorious curls and forget the rest of the world.

Helena sighs at the thought. Myka is a coworker and a friend, nothing more; a fact Myka only reiterated over dinner tonight and three years of casual flirting has gotten Helena nowhere. Myka is obviously not interested and Helena knows she would do better to remember that fact. She pushes a hand through her hair in frustration, feeling the strands glide through her fingers.

Sleep will likely prove elusive tonight with so much to think of. Deciding a shower may help her relax and calm her racing thoughts; she quickly turns towards the bathroom. Stepping under the spray, she groans with appreciation at the feel of the warm water pelting her sensitive skin. It isn’t long before thoughts of Myka return and Helena groans again, this time in frustration. Myka, who is intelligent, loyal and stunningly beautiful, who is so close to Helena and yet at the same time, so achingly far away. 

***

Settling under the covers, Myka tries desperately for sleep, but her mind whirls with too many thoughts. Specifically thoughts of Helena, of the way they met three years ago, sharing a mutual love of their profession, the way their friendship has grown over the years and now of their marriage. She sighs at the thought. She is actually married to Helena Wells and this is their wedding night. Not what she would have envisioned for a wedding night, going to bed alone, but this isn’t a true marriage after all. She sighs again and shifts onto her side, her hand resting against the pillow, the ring still on her finger easily standing out in the soft light. She brushes her thumb against the smooth surface, appreciating the way if feels against her skin. She’ll have to remember to remove it tomorrow before going to work. She really should have taken it off before bed, but…well…it is her wedding night after all. 

At last closing her eyes, willing sleep to come, she listens as a gentle rain begins to fall on her open windowsill. Isn’t rain on one’s wedding day considered good luck in some cultures? She wonders and then she berates herself. This isn’t a true marriage; and she would do well to remember that fact rather than wonder what could be, as it will only lead to heartache. Better to forget it altogether and go about her life as if nothing has changed, even though Myka knows she’s fooling herself in that regard. She knows now she’s love with Helena; things have already changed.

Turning over onto her other side, Myka lets out a huff of air in frustration. Really, what does she have to be upset about? She agreed to the marriage, she has no reason to be upset. The entire ordeal is ridiculous. With a last fluff of her pillow she settles down once more, resolving to fall asleep at last. Her eyes are only closed two seconds before her phone startles to life.

Switching on a light, Myka grasps her phone on her nightstand. Helena’s name is lit on the screen. She smiles in spite of herself. 

“Helena?”

“Myka, oh thank god,” Helena gasps.

Myka sits up straight in bed. “Helena, are you alright?” she asks concerned by the other woman’s tone.

“No, I’m in a fair bit of pain actually,” Helena tries to laugh but it comes out a gasp again instead.

“What’s happened?” Myka asks as she throws the covers off her legs and begins to move toward her closet.

“Funny story, darling. I’ve managed to slip and fall in my shower of all things. I’ve injured my back and can barely move. It was all I could do to climb out of the shower to reach my phone,” she breathes.

“All right, I’m on my way to you now,” Myka assures. “Just keep your phone next to you and I should be there in fifteen minutes.”

“Please hurry,” Helena speaks before the line disconnects.

Myka makes it to Helena’s apartment in record time, pulling out the key Helena made for her years ago for emergencies. She finds Helena in her bedroom, crouched on the floor, clad only in a towel.

“Helena!” Myka rushes to her side. 

“Please! Be careful,” Helena speaks with a grimace as Myka approaches her. “I’ve already passed out once from the pain, I’d rather not make a habit of it.”

“Brilliant idea” Myka speaks reaching gently for Helena. “Can you move at all?”

“Only minimally.”

“Okay, well, we need to get you to a hospital. Let’s get you changed into some clothing,” Myka says as she gently helps lift Helena from the floor to sit on her bed.

“Myka!” Helena gasps in pain as she sits on the bed. Myka can see the sweat beading on her forehead from the pain. “I don’t think I’ll be able to move enough to change into clothing, darling,” she tries to laugh, but grimaces with pain instead.

“All right,” Myka speaks biting her lip. “I’ll find something to wrap around you then.” Inside Helena’s closet, Myka quickly moves from hanger to hanger, looking for something Helena can wear. Her frantic movement comes to a halt as she comes across something familiar. An old faded sweatshirt hangs in the very back of the closet. It’s Myka’s. She doesn’t have time to question why Helena would keep her college sweatshirt loaned to her that Thanksgiving dinner years ago when she hears Helena gasp again.

“Myka?” Helena calls weakly, the pain evident in her voice. 

Finally Myka sees a satin bathrobe hanging on the back of the door and rushes from the closet returning to Helena with it.

“Do you think you can get this on?” she asks.

Helena looks at the article of clothing skeptically. “I can try,” she says between gritted teeth. “With your help of course.”

Myka nods, carefully moving Helena’s arm into a sleeve, watching her face for any sign of more pain. “I’m sorry, Helena, just a little bit further…and there,” she speaks triumphantly as at last the robe is on.

Very carefully Myka pulls the robe closed, but reaches under just enough to loosen the towel from Helena’s body. Once the towel falls to the floor, she fastens the robe closed with the ties, her cheeks blushing at the intimacy of the gesture. Helena’s eyes, watching her intently only serves to deepen her blush.

Helena manages a breathy laugh that doesn’t cause her pain. “It seems all you do these days is rescue me, Myka.”

Myka smiles. “That’s what friends are for.”

“And wives?” Helena asks.

“Wives too…I guess,” Myka says blushing deeper. “Come on, let’s get you to the hospital. Just hold onto me,” she says slipping her arm around Helena’s waist and holding her close for the second time this evening. Helena does as directed, grateful for this woman holding her close, grateful for Myka.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to those following this story. Sometimes it takes me longer than I anticipate to gather my thoughts into something coherent enough to translate to writing, so thanks for your patience and continued interest.

Helena doesn’t just hold onto Myka, she clings to her, even as Myka helps her step into flats and grabs her phone and wallet to put in her coat pocket. Helena continues to cling to Myka as they proceed to walk through the apartment, Myka pulling a blanket from the sofa to wrap around Helena’s shoulders, despite her protest.

“It’s started to rain,” Myka explains, knowing that even though Helena is sweating right now from exertion and pain, if the rain should soak her skin, chills would be a threat. “Do you have an umbrella?”

“In the closet…by the door,” Helena manages to say and Myka feels a prick of fear at the way Helena’s face is completely ashen, all the color drained from her face.

Securing the umbrella, Myka leads them out of the apartment, Helena still clinging to her through the hallway, down the elevator and finally outside to Myka’s parked Jeep. The rain has only intensified since Myka’s initial arrival, but though one side of her is nearly soaked, she takes a small pride in the fact she managed to keep Helena mostly dry as she carefully maneuvers her into the passenger seat of the SUV, looking for any further sign of pain.

“Are you all right, Helena?” she asks concerned seeing the way Helena bites at her lip as if to hold back a cry.

“Fine, darling,” she breathes out shakily, “but I don’t think I can manage the seatbelt.”

“I’ll get it,” Myka says folding the umbrella so she can grasp the belt and carefully reach across Helena to fasten the buckle, trying to ignore the scent of Helena’s shampoo assaulting her senses. Once the task is completed, Myka moves back, meeting Helena’s pain-filled eyes as she quickly gives her hand a gentle squeeze of silent assurance before she closes the door and runs around the front to get into the driver’s seat to drive to the hospital in haste. 

***

Myka sits beside Helena in an uncomfortable chair while she fills out Helena’s paperwork for her. “You’d think they would treat a patient first and worry about paperwork later,” she huffs agitated as she checks the no box for allergies a little more forcefully than is warranted. 

“Yes, well, I’m hoping that means my condition isn’t too serious then,” Helena replies as she struggles to find a comfortable position to sit in. 

“Serious or not, you’re still in pain,” Myka observes, adjusting the blanket to fit more snugly over Helena’s legs before returning to the paperwork.

When they are finally called into an examination room, a nurse quickly takes Helena’s blood pressure and temperature before leaving them alone once more to wait for the doctor’s arrival. 

Several moments later, an older woman with fading blonde hair and sparkling blue eyes greets them. “Good evening, ladies. I’m Dr. Vanessa Calder,” she says shaking both women’s hands. “My paperwork says I’m to examine Helena Wells for back pain, which I’m guessing is you,” she directs at Helena, “seeing as you look like a woman in pain,” she smiles gently.

“Indeed,” Helena remarks. 

“How did this injury happen?” Dr. Calder asks. 

“I slipped in the shower.”

The doctor nods thoughtfully. “Bet you had no idea how dangerous a shower can actually be, did you?” she asks lightly.

“None at all,” Helena agrees, whom until the moment she slipped and fell had been enjoying herself perfectly well in said shower.

“Are you experiencing any numbness?”

“No,” Helena responds.

“Did you hear anything that sounded like a pop when you fell?”

“No.”

“Good. But your mobility is limited?”

Helena stifles a sarcastic chortle. “Yes, I’d say so since I’ve had to rely on Myka to get me here,” Helena says glancing at the woman mentioned who smiles sympathetically in return. 

“I see. And do you feel pain when you’re still or just when you move?” Dr. Calder asks.

“Mostly just when I move about. Sometimes finding a good position to sit in is difficult, but once I do, it’s fine.” 

“All right, Helena, I’m just going to gently apply pressure to your back and I want you to let me know when you feel pain, okay?”

Helena nods before Dr. Calder begins to move her hands along Helena’s back, lightly probing the area for signs of discomfort, Helena grimacing and crying out with pain when the doctor reaches her lower back.

“Will she be all right?” Myka asks the doctor worriedly.

“Of course she will,” the doctor assures with a smile as she moves back to face her patient. “Helena, you appear to have sprained your lower back, not an uncommon occurrence for those who sustain a fall such as you have.”

“What exactly does that mean?” Helena asks.

“A sprain is the tearing of a ligament and since ligaments are bands of tissue that connect the bones, the tearing of it constricts your movement, often painfully.”

“And the treatment?” Helena asks. 

“The best thing for this kind of injury is rest, at least for the first couple days. You can apply ice to your back to keep the swelling down, but the main thing is rest. No work for a few days, no strenuous activity. After forty-eight hours of rest and limited movement, you should try returning to your normal activities, making sure to move slowly and with care. Try not to aggravate the injury further. Do you have someone who can assist you at home?” the doctor asks her eyes darting to Myka.

“I don’t…” Helena begins but gets no further as Myka speaks up.

“Yeah, I’m her…we’re married…I’ll take care of her,” Myka says feeling Helena’s stare at the admission that tumbles from her lips.

“Excellent. Looks like you’re in good hands then, Helena,” Dr. Calder smiles at her.

“Yes,” Helena agrees still watching Myka. 

Dr. Calder turns back to Myka. “I’ll write up a prescription for some medication to help with the pain. Oh, and I’m sure this goes without saying, but no sexual activity until Helena fully heals.”

Myka feels her face flush at the statement. “Of course,” she breathes looking away from the doctor, catching Helena’s stare that would ordinarily show amusement if not for the pain still reflected in her expression. 

“When can I expect a full recovery?” Helena asks.

“Well, as long as you take care of yourself as I instructed and rest, you should be moving around as usual in several days, feeling perfectly well again within a couple weeks.”

“That long?” Helena groans.

“That’s just an estimate, Helena. Some patients recover sooner, others longer. The main thing is not to push yourself, give your body time to heal.”

“I’ll make sure she does,” Myka interjects.

“Good,” Dr. Calder says approvingly. “My guess is you have your work cut out for you caring for this one,” she says winking at Helena who frowns in return.

“You have no idea,” Myka mutters.

***

After a quick stop to a twenty-four hour pharmacy to fill Helena’s prescription, Myka begins the drive back to Helena’s apartment. 

Stealing a glance at Helena, Myka notices the way she curls herself against the seat, wincing at the slightest movement. “I’ll stay with you tonight,” Myka says. 

“Really, Myka, there’s no need for that,” Helena protests. “I’m perfectly capable of taking care of myself and you’ve done more than enough as it is.” 

“Helena,” Myka sighs, “at the moment you can barely walk and Dr. Calder said you need someone to take care of you so…I’ll take care of you. Besides…I made you a promise tonight…in sickness and in health, right?” she smiles shyly. 

Helena tries to ignore the way her heart beats faster at Myka’s declaration, knowing Myka only means to be a good friend; feeling both gratitude and guilt that Myka would honor her promise made, even though their marriage isn’t a true one.

“Except I don’t believe we actually said those words,” Helena points out.

“Isn’t it kind of implied in the part where I promised to keep you all the days of my life? All the days, good and bad alike, right?” Myka prods. 

“I suppose so,” Helena acquiesces. “Though you’re under no obligation from me to keep that promise made tonight and I know I should put up more of an argument, but at the moment I’m too exhausted to make the attempt.”

“Then don’t,” Myka says gently, turning her gaze from the road just long enough to watch Helena rest her head back on the seat and close her eyes.

“Thank you,” Helena says softly, her eyes still closed. “You’re a good friend, Myka.”

Myka remains silent, watching the road. 

***

Arriving at Helena’s apartment, they once more begin the slow process of walking from the Jeep to inside the apartment building where they are greeted with a sight that has Myka groaning and Helena near to tears.

A sign on the elevator simply reads “Elevator being serviced. Temporarily out of Order.”

“They’re servicing the elevator now? Seriously, who services an elevator at one o’clock in the morning?” Myka asks incredulously.

“I vaguely recall receiving an email about this from the building manager,” Helena speaks weakly. “Something about inconveniencing as few people as possible at this ungodly hour. I didn’t think it would affect me so promptly forgot about it.”

“How shortsighted of you, not to realize that you would in fact need the elevator tonight, at this exact hour,” Myka teases with a small smile as she formulates a new plan.

“Oh god, Myka, I’ll never be able to walk up six flights of stairs,” Helena moans.

“No, I know, Helena,” Myka says pulling her closer. “I’ll take you back to my apartment, you can stay there tonight. But, as long as we’re here, I might as well pack some clothing for you. Is there anything else you need?”

“You already have my phone and wallet?”

“I do,” Myka affirms patting her coat pocket. 

“There’s nothing else I need then.”

“All right,” Myka says as she walks Helena to a chair in the lobby and carefully lowers her into it, pulling the blanket from her shoulders to cover the rest of her body with it. “Just give me fifteen minutes, okay?”

Helena only silently nods as she watches Myka turn and disappear through the stairwell.

Myka jogs up the stairs as fast as she dares, not wanting to cause her own accident and is grateful that she keeps relatively fit that she can manage the climb without too much struggle. Still, she’s breathing hard as she lets herself into Helena’s apartment and races to the bedroom, searching for a bag to hold clothing in. 

For the second time this evening, Myka walks into Helena’s closet, easily finding a tote bag on a shelf and quickly pulls the nearest blouses off hangers, followed by a couple pairs of trousers and places them in the bag. Satisfied the few items will be sufficient to last Helena a couple days at least, Myka begins to leave the bedroom when she’s struck by another thought. Undergarments. Helena will need something to wear under these blouses and trousers. 

Approaching the dresser in the room, Myka cautiously opens the top drawer, peering in quickly, hoping she’s managed to find what she needs. Finally fate is on her side as the drawer reveals various undergarments and Myka is surprised at how many of them are made of satin and lace. Before Myka allows her mind wander, imagining the way Helena must look wearing some of these articles of clothing, she quickly pulls a few from the drawer, placing them into the bag and firmly closes the drawer again, also effectively closing off any further imaginings.

At last convinced she has enough to get Helena through the night and following day at least, Myka locks the apartment door behind her and flees down the six flights of stairs to return to Helena.

Helena’s eyes are closed when Myka approaches her still sitting in the chair as she left her. Myka gently settles her hand along Helena’s shoulder, watching as Helena’s dark eyes flutter open at the contact.

“Hey, you,” Myka smiles, “ready to go?”

Helena’s breath hitches at the sight of Myka looking at her so, the soft smile that lights her face despite all the trouble Helena has put her through tonight.

“Lead the way, darling,” Helena says, before Myka is reaching for her, gently lifting her into her hold once more. 

***

“It’s probably better we go back to my place anyway,” Myka says as she pulls back onto the road to drive to her apartment. “I’ve fallen asleep on your sofa before and it’s not an experience I’m eager to repeat,” she grins when the comment elicits a huff of exasperation from Helena.

“Really, my sofa isn’t that uncomfortable,” she argues.

“It definitely is, as least to sleep on,” Myka rebuts. 

“Says the woman with exceptionally long legs. It’s a wonder you’d find any sofa comfortable.”

Myka just laughs. “Anyway, tomorrow when you’re hopefully feeling better, we can discuss a more permanent, temporary arrangement as I’ll stay with you until you’re feeling better, whether it be at your place or mine.” 

Helena only nods.

***

Once more, Helena clings to Myka through the parking garage, in the elevator, down the hallway and finally, blessedly inside Myka’s apartment where she practically collapses onto the sofa.

Myka hurries to the kitchen and comes back with a glass of water, offering it to Helena along with the medication. “Here, drink all this now,” she gently commands and watches until the glass is empty, taking it from Helena to set on the coffee table. 

“Are you okay here while I change the sheets on my bed?” Myka asks.

“Oh darling, there’s no need to change the sheets on my account. I’m too exhausted to care about such trivialities.”

“Are you sure?” 

Helena nods. “I just want to go to sleep, or at least make an attempt to.”

“All right,” Myka says leaning down to gently gather Helena against her, leading her into her bedroom and to an unmade bed that she eases Helena down upon. 

“Your bed isn’t made,” Helena remarks surprised.

“Yeah well, _someone_ called me just as I was settling down to sleep. They sounded like they were in pain so I didn’t bother to take the time to make my bed before rushing from the apartment,” Myka smiles.

“I’m sorry I woke you,” Helena says dejectedly. “I’m sorry for everything, Myka.”

“Hey, you didn’t wake me, I couldn’t sleep. And there’s nothing to be sorry for, Helena. You had an accident, these things happen,” she says lightly cupping Helena’s cheek, making sure dark eyes meet hers before squeezing Helena’s shoulder and stepping away. “Do you want me to get you something to sleep in?”

Helena manages a short laugh. “After all the trouble we went through to get this robe on, I’ll sleep in it tonight.”

“Good point,” Myka says rubbing at her neck. “All right, let’s get you settled then,” she says helping Helena move further back onto the bed.

Helena can’t quite contain a sharp cry as she slowly moves to lie down and Myka winces at the sound, hating to hear Helena in such pain.

“It’s okay,” Myka soothes as she gently guides Helena to lie against the pillows. Helena takes in a shuddering breath, but finally finds a position that doesn’t bring her pain.

As Myka pulls the covers over Helena, carefully tucking in the blankets around her to make sure she stays warm, Helena thinks this is the first thing to feel right since she kissed Myka hours earlier. It feels right to be in Myka’s apartment now, in her bed where she feels warm and safe with Myka’s soft scent surrounding her senses and Myka looking at her with such concern.

“Helena? Are you okay? Are you comfortable?”

“Yes,” Helena breathes.

“Are you going to be warm enough? Should I get another blanket?”

“No, darling, I’m fine, thank you.” 

Myka nods then and reaches over Helena to gather one of the pillows from the bed.

“What are you doing?” 

“I’m sleeping on the sofa,” Myka explains.

“You don’t have to,” Helena says softly, her dark eyes meeting Myka’s clear green eyes.

Myka feels a familiar flutter in her stomach at Helena’s words, but quickly pushes it aside. “It’s been a while since I slept with someone…I mean shared a bed…oh you know what I mean,” Myka says flustered, not sure whether she should feel embarrassed or relieved by the smirk Helena gives her as she stumbles over her words.

“Anyway, what I’m trying to say is, I have no way of knowing what I might do in my sleep. For instance, my _exceptionally_ , long legs might accidentally kick you and I don’t want to risk causing you any more pain.”

Helena sighs. “Less pain is preferred,” she agrees even though a part of her would risk further pain to share the bed with Myka. “But still, it’s a sofa. Are you sure you’ll be comfortable?” she asks concerned.

“It will be fine,” Myka assures. “Okay, so do you have everything you need?”

“Yes, I think so.”

“Good. If you need to get up in the night or you need any help for anything at all, just call for me okay? I’ll leave the bedroom door open so I should be able to hear you.”

Helena nods and at last, warm and comfortable under the covers, she feels the exhaustion of the night begin to overtake her as she struggles to keep her eyes open. “Thank you, Myka, for all of this,” she says in between a yawn, her eyelids falling closed.

“You’re welcome, Helena. Sleep well,” Myka whispers laying a gentle touch to Helena’s hand, smiling when she notices Helena still wears her ring. With a last glance at Helena’s sleeping form, Myka turns off the lamp near the bed and carefully steps through the darkened room to the hallway, pulling the bedroom door mostly closed behind her.

Setting the pillow on the edge of the sofa, Myka pulls a blanket from the hall closet and throws it across the length of the sofa. Finally she begins to undress for sleep, groaning when she realizes she forgot to gather any sleep clothes from her bedroom. Unwilling to risk waking Helena to gather them, she decides to just sleep in her underwear, surprised to realize when she removes her coat that she’s still wearing the same camisole he intended to sleep in earlier in the evening. She’d rushed from the apartment so quickly, she didn’t even think to change into something more substantial. She shakes her head at the discovery, it serving as further evidence that where Helena is concerned, any logic Myka usually possesses practically vanishes. 

Finally snuggling under the blanket, Myka adjusts her pillow, seeking a comfortable position, sighing when she realizes her sofa isn’t likely to prove any more comfortable than Helena’s was to sleep on. Still, any discomfort she might feel is nothing compared to the pain Helena is feeling. 

Laying silently in the dark, Myka contemplates the events of the evening. A few hours ago she had been in her comfortable bed reflecting on her new marriage status and the fact that she was going to bed alone on her wedding night. She’s still technically going to bed alone, and now on the sofa no less, but Helena is here, in her home, in her bed, on their wedding night. The thought is comforting to Myka and brings a soft smile to her lips as she at last falls asleep.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _I know it's been a while since I've updated this story, but I have been working on it, I'm just a slow writer if that wasn't already apparent. Anyway, this chapter kept growing, so I finally decided to split it into two chapters. What is now chapter 8 should hopefully be posted tomorrow. Thanks for reading!_

Sunlight filters through the window when Myka stirs awake. Blinking her eyes against the soft light, she’s momentarily confused as to why she’s on her sofa and then suddenly remembers. _Helena_. Throwing off the blanket she rises from the sofa and immediately gasps at the pain in her neck. Rubbing at her neck, she tries to soothe the soreness, realizing that sleeping on the sofa has done her no favors, but her slight discomfort is pushed aside as she hastens down the hall to her bedroom to check on Helena.

Pushing the door open, Myka tiptoes across the floor towards the bed, relieved to observe Helena still slumbering, her chest steadily rising and falling with each breath, her usually pristine hair tousled from sleep. Without thought, Myka reaches out to gently brush away a strand of dark hair from Helena’s face, her fingertips lingering against soft skin as she looks upon Helena’s face in sleep, trying to determine whether the woman is more beautiful when asleep or awake. 

Definitely when awake, she decides as Helena’s eyes begin to flutter open at Myka’s touch, revealing the darkest eyes Myka has ever known. She slowly removes her hand then and smiles.

“How are you feeling?” she asks softly as Helena sighs and rubs the sleep from her eyes. Attempting to sit up, she gasps, thereby answering Myka’s question without words.

“Okay, just take it easy,” Myka says as she gently helps maneuver Helena into a sitting position, adjusting the pillows behind her.

Helena takes in the sight of Myka, her curls more riotous than usual from sleep, wearing only a thin camisole and…very little else. Myka is breathtaking in the most literal sense of the word as another gasp falls from Helena’s lips causing Myka to look at her with concern.

“Helena? Are you all right?”

“Yes, it’s just your legs…they truly are exceptional…ly long,” Helena breathes; her dark eyes traveling the length of Myka’s mostly bare legs. 

Myka follows Helena’s gaze down to her legs, startled into remembering she didn’t wear any sleep shorts the night before and is standing before Helena now in nothing more than her underwear.

Cheeks burning, Myka steps back, aware of Helena’s intent gaze as she says, “I’ll just be a moment,” before disappearing inside her closet and quickly pulling on pants, silently berating herself for once more losing her head where Helena is concerned that she can’t even remember to properly dress. Finally emerging from the closet, she is met with Helena’s amused glance. “Sorry about that,” she laughs nervously. “I didn’t want to chance waking you last night just to get something to sleep in, and I neglected to slip on my jeans from last night before coming to check on you.”

“You have absolutely nothing to be embarrassed about, Myka, I assure you,” Helena says with a grin.

“So, did you sleep well?” Myka asks, rubbing at her sore neck, trying to ignore the way Helena’s words and stare has set her stomach to fluttering.

“Quite well. Your bed is extremely comfortable; I don’t think I stirred at all in the night. Thank you for letting me sleep in it.”

“No problem,” Myka says still massaging her neck. Helena observes the gesture, sensing it is something more than Myka’s usual anxious habit.

“Your sofa didn’t prove any more comfortable than mine, did it?” she asks knowingly. 

Myka drops her hand away with a shrug. “My neck is a little sore, nothing I can’t deal with,” she smiles attempting to set Helena at ease.

“I’m so sorry, Myka, for all of this,” Helena says glancing away.

“Hey,” Myka says stepping close enough to the bedside that she can lay a comforting hand over Helena’s. “There is nothing to be sorry for, Helena. Accidents happen to all of us.”

“And what of being forced into marriage to keep a coworker from deportation?” 

“I’d imagine that’s a little less common,” Myka says smiling. “But you’re much more than just a coworker, you’re my friend and I wasn’t forced into anything. You proposed an idea, I accepted the terms and we both get what we want, which is for you to stay here.”

Helena sighs heavily. “I do want to stay here,” she agrees as she adjusts in the bed, the movement causing her to wince.

“I should get your pain medication,” Myka says beginning to turn away.

“Before you do,” Helena interrupts, “would you please help me out of bed so I may use the bathroom?”

Myka nods as Helena pushes off the covers and begins to slowly extract herself from the bed with Myka’s arms around her.

“You okay?” Myka asks when Helena finally stands from the bed and exhales shakily. 

“I think so,” she answers as Myka slowly guides her the few steps to the bathroom.

“Thank you. I think I can manage from here,” Helena says at the doorway.

“Are you sure?”

“I’ll be all right, and if I’m not, you’ll likely hear about it,” she tries to joke.

Myka nods. “I’ll just go get your medication then. I can get you something to eat while I’m at it. Are you hungry?”

“Famished,” Helena admits. 

“What would you like?”

“Anything you have will be lovely.”

Myka pulls the door closed then and hurries out of the bedroom towards the kitchen, but hearing her cell phone ringing, she quickly backtracks to the living room to get to it. She curses when she reads the time on the screen to be eight-fifteen. She’s forty-five minutes late to work and she’s never late to work without notifying someone at the office first. 

Answering the device, Myka says, “Leena, I’m so sorry I didn’t call.”

“Myka what’s happened? I’ve been calling your cell for the last half hour trying to reach you. Pete was just about to drive over to your apartment to check on you. Are you all right and have you heard from HG? She’s late too.”

“Helena is with me,” Myka says as she makes her way to the kitchen, grabbing a bag of bagels off the counter to place two halves into the toaster. “She called me last night after I’d gone to bed to say she’d fallen in her shower.”

“Is she all right?” Leena asks concerned and Myka can hear Pete in the background asking what happened. “HG had an accident, slipped in the shower,” she hears Leena explain to him.

“She’ll be fine, but the doctor said she sprained her lower back and she’s in some pain right now,” Myka continues as she starts the coffee maker and sets the teakettle on the stove to boil water. “We’ve had a long night and we both overslept. I’m just fixing breakfast now, and honestly, I’m hesitant to leave her when she’s having a difficult time getting around.”

“Oh, Myka, if you need to stay with Helena I’m sure Artie will understand.”

“I’m not as sure about that,” Myka chuckles, “but will you please let him know the situation?”

“Of course.”

“Thanks, Leena. If I decide not to come in, I’ll give you a call.”

“All right, Myka. You and HG take care.”

Myka ends the call and quickly sets about fixing breakfast, spreading cream cheese on the toasted bagels, washing grapes and pouring Helena’s tea and her own coffee into mugs. She also fills a glass with water and gathers the pain medication. Lastly, she fills a small plastic bag with ice cubes, wrapping a dishcloth around it.

Carefully balancing the breakfast tray down the hall, Myka finds Helena sitting against the pillows of the bed, smiling tiredly at her as she enters the bedroom.

“You look as if you’re ready to fall asleep again,” Myka says lightly as she sets the tray on the end of the bed.

“I almost feel as if I could. What time is it?”

“A little after eight-thirty.”

Helena’s eyes widen. “You’re late for work.”

“I know,” Myka smiles, “but it’s all right. Leena called so I explained the situation and let her know I may not make it in today.”

“You don’t have to stay here for me, Myka,” Helena says.

“And if I want to?”

Helena’s mouth opens then closes, unable to form a response to that.

“Here, I’ve brought some ice for your back,” Myka says as she carefully helps Helena move forward just enough to rest the ice on her back before she moves back against the pillows. “The doctor said you should ice it remember?”

“Mmm,” is all the response she receives as Helena winces, whether from pain or the sudden cold, Myka is unsure.

“And your medication,” Myka hands her a tablet and glass of water.

“Thank you,” Helena says taking the medication, watching Myka over the rim of the glass, noticing the way she massages her neck trying to work out the stiffness.

“I’m sorry about your neck, Myka,” she apologizes again when she finishes.

Myka instantly drops her hand from her neck. “It’s just a little sore. I’ll live, Helena,” she assures.

“But if it weren’t for me…”

“Helena, I’m fine,” Myka says firmly. “Don’t worry about me, let’s concentrate on getting you better. I brought breakfast,” she says grabbing the tray from the end of the bed to place it between them. 

“Breakfast in bed, how lovely. Now we really are acting like newlyweds,” she grins as Myka sits down beside her with a blush tinting her cheeks.

“Newlyweds eat breakfast in bed together?” Myka questions.

“Of course. Very romantic, don’t you think?” Helena smirks.

Myka shrugs. “I don’t know, I’ve never eaten in bed before.”

“But you have a breakfast tray,” Helena accuses amusedly. 

“Tracy received two sets of breakfast trays as a wedding gifts, so she gave me the extra set.”

“You really never eat in bed?” Helena asks astonished now. 

“I’ve never had a reason to eat in bed…before now,” Myka defends.

“Oh darling, you don’t know what you’re missing. Food in the bedroom, depending what it is of course, can be quite sensual,” Helena smirks.

Myka clears her throat, her eyes darting away from Helena as she contemplates what Helena is telling her. An image comes to mind of Helena enjoying chocolate covered strawberries with some past lover. She shakes her head at the thought, not wanting that particular vision to come to mind, but nearly chokes on a grape at the sound of Helena’s appreciative moan as she takes the first bite of her bagel.

“Are you all right?” Helena asks concerned.

“Yeah…I’m good,” Myka says gasping for breath. “I just swallowed that grape too soon,” she says taking a sip of her coffee, hoping to wash it down and feeling her breath hitch as Helena licks at her lips where cream cheese has spilled. “So I…I have your bag of clothes for you if you want to wear something a little more substantial than your robe. Or you can just borrow something of mine if you want.”

“Thank you, Myka, but I think I’ll just stay in my robe for now. I’m still quite tired, I think after breakfast I’ll probably go back to sleep, if that’s all right?”

“Of course it’s all right. You need your rest,” Myka says stifling a yawn at the mention of sleep. 

“It appears you could use some more sleep as well, Myka, it was a long night. But you must sleep in your bed, I don’t want you to risk further pain to your neck,” Helena insists. 

Myka briefly contemplates the idea of napping in the same bed with Helena, the soft sunlight filtering through the window as they sleep under blankets that keep them warm and comfortable. Being so near to Helena is tempting, too tempting. 

“No, I probably should go into work, at least for a little while, so Artie doesn’t throw a fit that both his editors are missing in action,” Myka says standing from the bed. “Are you sure you’ll be all right on your own for a few hours?”

“Perfectly all right.”

Myka nods. “I’ll come home at lunch to fix you something to eat.”

“You don’t need to do that,” Helena protests. “I can manage on my own.” 

“Are you sure?” Myka asks skeptical. “You’ll rest as the doctor told you to do?”

“Yes. Your bed is so comfortable, I don’t have much inclination to leave it at the moment,” Helena smiles. “I’ll sleep for a while and when I awake, I’ll be sure to call Immigration Services to notify them of our recent marriage so they won’t have cause to deport me.” 

“Our marriage,” Myka repeats the words, tracing the wedding ring on her finger, suddenly reminded of its presence. “I suppose I should take this off now before I forget and wear it to work,” she says with a nervous laugh.

“Yes, I suppose so,” Helena concedes softly as she watches Myka remove the ring and carefully place it on her dresser.

Myka expects to hear Helena make an excuse for removing her own ring, but an excuse isn’t voiced and Helena doesn’t remove her ring either, instead gently tracing it with her thumb as she silently looks at Myka who feels an unaccountable surge of happiness well within her that Helena still wears her ring.

“Well, I should shower and get ready for work then,” Myka says turning away to grab clothes from her closet.

“Take care that you don’t slip,” Helena warns. “It would be terrible for us both to be so indisposed,” she says before Myka disappears into the bathroom for a much desired and soothing shower.

***

Myka’s thoughts are still centered on Helena as she waits for the elevator to carry her the twelve flights to her office, reflecting how quickly her life has changed in the span of hours. Yesterday she had fretted over the wedding ceremony. Today she technically had breakfast in bed with her wife. She smiles at the thought. It certainly wasn’t quite the breakfast in bed most newlyweds would share, and Helena is still struggling with pain, but they were together. And when she returns home from work, Helena will be there. 

“Myka, hi,” comes a voice from beside her, startling Myka from her thoughts to look up into a familiar face.

“Hi Sam,” Myka nods at the tall, blonde-haired, blue-eyed man. 

“Just getting into work now?” he asks appraising her. “Seems a little late for you.”

“Yeah, I sort of had an interesting morning,” she laughs as she steps into the waiting elevator.

“Yeah? Well, by the look on your face, it must have been a pleasant start to the day. You look really happy, Myka,” he smiles kindly. 

“Yeah, I guess I am, all things considered,” Myka smiles wider as she thinks of Helena. “But what about you? You’re getting to work late too aren’t you?”

“No,” he shakes his head. “I’ve already been to the office, then to court, now back to the office,” he laughs.

“Ah, I see,” Myka smiles. 

“Myka, would you…” Sam starts but quickly quiets as the elevator stops at the twelfth floor, its doors opening and Myka stepping off into the hallway.

She looks back at him expectantly. “Did you say something, Sam?”

Sam takes in Myka’s shining eyes and wide smile. She had been thinking of someone when he interrupted her thoughts in the lobby. Someone who had put that undeniably happy look on her face. “Just, have a good day, Myka,” he says.

“You too,” Myka nods as she watches the elevator doors close, relieved that Sam didn’t finish his question, which she is almost certain was going to be an invitation to coffee or maybe dinner this time. She likes Sam, and had she met him before Helena, she would have willingly accepted such an invitation from him. But knowing now she’s in love with Helena, and married to her, Myka knows there is no one else for her, only Helena.

***

“Mykes, what happened?” Pete pounces the moment she steps through the publisher’s office. “Leena said something about HG having an accident?” 

“Yeah,” Myka sighs as she begins the short trek to her office.

“Myka!” Claudia jumps from her chair at sight of her, joining Pete’s parade. “Is HG okay?”

Myka stops walking when she notices Steve and Leena also looking at her with concern, Artie appearing in his office doorway at the commotion amongst his employees.

“Seeing as you’re all gathered, it’ll be easier to tell you at all at once,” she smiles at her little family. “Helena is fine, but she had an accident last night. She slipped in her shower and injured her back making it painful for her move around right now. The doctor says she’ll be fine, but no work for a few days. In the mean time, she’s staying at my place so I can take care of her.”

“Man, those back injuries are nothing to mess with,” Pete says shaking his head in empathy. “I’ve suffered a few from my wrestling days. Oh, and there was this one girlfriend I had who…”

“Pete! I’m begging you not to finish that sentence,” Claudia interrupts, Steve nodding his head in agreement. 

“Is there anything we can do for HG?” Leena asks.

Myka shakes her head. “There’s nothing really to be done, Leena. Helena just needs to rest, keep still for a little while.”

“And we all know how well HG likes to keep still,” Leena laughs. “Maybe the better question is what can we do for _you_ , Myka?”

Myka laughs at that. “I’ve already had a few challenges this morning,” she concedes as she rubs at her still sore neck, “but I’ll manage.”

Myka begins to shift from the group to walk towards Helena’s office. 

“When exactly can we expect Ms. Wells to grace us with her presence again?” Artie asks sarcastically.

Myka sighs. “Likely by Monday, Tuesday at the latest, but I want you to know, Artie, she insisted I bring her laptop home with me because she doesn’t want you to worry about her missing any deadlines.”

“How professional of her,” he says wryly. “Meanwhile, I’ll get to enjoy few days respite from her. It’ll be like a vacation.”

“Don’t get used to it. She will be returning,” Myka insists turning away then to enter Helena’s office. Shaking her head fondly at the sight of papers strewn all across Helena’s desk, Myka reaches for the laptop, careful not to touch any papers. It may be chaos, but it’s organized chaos and Helena knows exactly where everything is, as long as nothing is moved. 

She does take a moment to look at the pictures lining Helena’s desk, for though Myka spends an inordinate amount of time in this office; she is rarely afforded the view from behind Helena’s desk. 

There are a few framed photographs sitting along a corner, one of her older brother, Charles, whom Myka met for the first time last spring when he visited Helena for a couple weeks. There is a picture of Helena with Claudia at the younger woman’s first band gig at a club downtown. Myka smiles as she recalls how she and Helena had cheered and yelled their voices hoarse that night. There is another photo of the entire staff, including Mrs. Frederic, to commemorate Endless Wonder Book Publisher’s fifth anniversary. And the last photo is a picture of Myka and Helena together. It’s a simple photo of an everyday occurrence. Myka is sitting at her desk with Helena leaning over her, into her, as they look over a manuscript. Myka smiles at the sight of it.

With the laptop in hand, Myka is about to leave the office when it occurs to her that she should also find the power cord that goes with it so the computer can be charged. Pulling open the first side drawer, she finds the cord easily. She also finds another photo. The middle is slightly torn, as if someone intended to tear it in half before thinking better of it. In the photo, Helena is smiling, and so is Giselle beside her. Their cheeks are touching as they lean in together and they both look so…happy. Myka purses her lips and tries to ignore the way her stomach drops at sight of the photo, quickly closing the drawer and hastily leaving the office behind her. 

Setting Helena’s laptop on her own desk, she falls into her chair and slowly brushes back curls from her face, trying to convince herself there is no reason to feel this…hurt. Giselle is in the past, Helena said so herself. Still, earlier this morning, she shared breakfast with Helena, her wife. She had been happy with a faint hope that perhaps things between them could develop into something more. How foolish she is to think Helena will ever feel about her the way she must have felt for Giselle.

“Hey, Mykes, you okay?” a voice breaks into her thoughts. 

Myka straightens at the question. “Yeah, Pete, I’m fine,” she says noticing him in the doorway.

“You sure? When you came in this morning you seemed pretty happy and now, not so much.”

“I’m fine, really,” she sighs, offering him a smile she hopes is reassuring. “Just worried about Helena,” she finally answers truthfully.

“Ah, don’t sweat it, Mykes. I mean, back injuries can be a pain, sure, but she’ll bounce back from it. I always have,” he grins.

“Thanks, Pete. You’re probably right, she’ll be fine.”

“So, where did you two kids get off to last night?” he asks taking a seat.

“Why do you ask?” Myka asks with narrowed eyes at the question. 

“Well, I couldn’t help noticing, you wore a skirt yesterday. And HG, she was wearing a dress when you two left the office…together.”

“You never mentioned anything about me wearing a skirt yesterday, why the sudden interest now, Pete?”

“All right, I didn’t notice the whole skirt and dress thing, Claudia did. But it is an interesting observation, don’t you think?” he persists.

“No,” Myka laughs. “It’s just clothing, Pete. If you’re so interested in women’s clothing, ask Amanda.”

“Ah, come on, Mykes, it’s more than the clothing. It’s the reason behind wearing that clothing; dresses and skirts when we all know you and HG are more slacks and vest kind of women. Where did you and HG go last night?”

“We went to dinner…”

“Ah-ha!”

“To discuss business, Pete. And why are you asking all these questions?” Myka asks annoyed.

Pete raises his hands in surrender. “No reason. It’s just…there’s been some…talk around the office.”

“What kind of talk?”

“You know, talk, speculation, scuttlebutt, that you and HG are…dating.”

Myka laughs heartily. “I’m not dating, Helena, Pete,” she says. The words, ‘I’m married to her,’ threaten to spill from her lips just to see the look on Pete’s face at the statement, but Myka refrains.

“Okay, Mykes,” Pete says. “But you know, if you did decide to date her…we’d all be for it.”

“You would?” Myka asks her voice suddenly choked at the sentiment.

“Yeah, Mykes. You know we all love you. Love both of you. Just promise me I’ll be your best man at the wedding,” he grins and Myka really does choke at the request, coughing uncontrollably as Pete quickly runs around the desk to pound her on the back. 

“You okay? I didn’t think my request was that shocking. We are best friends, right?”

“Yeah, yeah. Best man. Got it,” she says reaching for her water bottle and taking a long sip. “But Helena and I are not dating, Pete,” she says again when she finishes. 

“Okay, you’re not dating. So, HG’s staying at your place, huh? I can only imagine what that must be like. You’re so neat and tidy and HG, if her office is anything to go by is more like me in the organizational department,” he laughs. “She must be driving you crazy.”

“No, she’s fine. I mean, yes, when she’s working, things can become cluttered, but her apartment is just as tidy as mine. It’s only when she’s working that things can become…chaotic,” she laughs affectionately. “Anyway, she hasn’t been at my place long and she may decide she’d rather go back to her place tonight depending on how she’s feeling by then.”

“I can bring over my DVD of Top Gun and we can all watch it together, that always makes me feel better,” Pete offers.

“Thanks, Pete, but on Helena’s behalf, I think I’ll have to pass. She really just needs to rest. Top Gun might prove too exciting for her,” Myka grins.

“You have a point. Good ole’ Maverick and Goose can have that affect,” he agrees seriously.

Myka just laughs. “Don’t you have work to get back to?” she quirks a brow at him.

“Probably,” he shrugs unconcerned. 

“Pete!” they both hear Artie shout then. “Where are my reports for sales this month?”

With an easy grin, Pete makes his way out of her office. “Now, Artemis, don’t get your panties in a twist,” Myka can hear him say before she immerses herself in her work, trying to put away the image of Helena looking so content with Giselle by her side and trying not to think about the secret she’s keeping from Pete and the rest of her family.


	8. Chapter 8

Myka calls Helena to check on her for the first time just after ten-thirty, but Helena doesn’t answer. Figuring she is asleep, Myka leaves a message and returns to work.

She calls the second time at eleven-fifteen. Helena still doesn’t answer, and deciding she’s still likely to be asleep, Myka leaves a message, asking Helena to call when she is able.

Myka doesn’t hear from Helena at all by the time noon comes around and she is beginning to feel uneasy that she hasn’t heard from her. When she calls again, she still only gets Helena’s voicemail and decides then to go home for lunch, giving her a chance to check in on Helena in person and make sure she’s truly all right. Myka packs up Helena’s laptop and with a final word to Leena about her plan to return after lunch, she makes her way home with a growing feeling of anxiety.

The anxiety only intensifies as she steps inside her apartment to be met with silence. It’s possible Helena is still asleep, so Myka sets down Helena’s laptop on the sofa before quietly making her way to her bedroom. The covers are pulled back from the bed and Helena is nowhere in sight. 

Feeling a panic begin to settle in her chest, Myka calls out to the deserted room, “Helena?” 

“Myka?” she hears Helena’s faint voice coming from the direction of the bathroom.

Myka notices the door is slightly ajar and approaches cautiously. “Helena? Are you all right?”

“Not exactly,” comes the subdued reply.

“May I come in?”

“I wish you would, darling, but to give you fair warning, I’m not exactly decent at the moment.”

Myka swallows hard at the unexpected answer. “What exactly does that mean?”

“I’m in the bathtub.”

“The bathtub,” Myka repeats helplessly.

“Yes. After my nap this morning, I decided to take a bath, thinking it would be relaxing, which it was for a little while.” 

At this information Myka audibly groans. 

“You’re quite right to feel that way, I’m afraid,” Helena answers her groan. “For as I had little trouble getting into the bath, I’ve been unable thus far to get out of it. The pain medication wore off some time ago and movement at the moment is rather unendurable,” Helena manages a shaky laugh. 

“So you’re…in the tub…without clothing?” Myka tries to clarify.

“That is generally how one takes a bath,” comes the smart reply. 

“Oh god,” Myka mutters under her breath at the thought of Helena naked and that she has to somehow help her…in such a state. Taking a deep breath she tries steadying her nerves, knowing Helena needs her help.

“All right,” Myka breathes as she quickly removes her coat and rolls up her sleeves as if to embark into battle. “Helena, I’m coming in to help you out of the tub so…just…cover what you don’t want seen,” Myka says awkwardly, feeling a familiar heat travel to her cheeks at the thought of Helena undressed just behind the door.

Helena is not a prudish woman by any means, and if she’s completely honest with herself, she has no qualms about Myka seeing her naked, has dreamed about it even. But in her dreams, Myka is equally naked and they are in a warm, soft bed. She doesn’t want Myka to see her naked under these circumstances. Not when she’s in pain, wet and shivering from sitting in cold bathwater far too long. 

Helena adjusts the washcloth she brought into the bath to fit more securely around her chest, holding it in place with an arm as she slowly turns into the side of the tub as best she can, the movement causing enough pain to leave her gasping.

“Helena?” Myka calls again, hearing her distress. “May I come inside now?”

“Yes,” Helena says watching as the door is slowly pushed open and Myka hesitantly steps inside, a blush covering her features. Helena smiles at the sight of her. “Hello, Myka,” she sighs with relief. 

“Helena,” Myka breathes, barely registering that Helena is indeed naked, as she is more concerned to notice the woman is huddled in the tub, shivering with cold. Myka takes a towel from the linen closet and quickly unfolds it as she moves closer to the tub and drapes the towel across Helena before pulling the plug to drain the water.

Kneeling down on the floor, Myka says, “I’m just going to help you move forward a little so I can secure the towel around you, okay?” she asks gently.

Helena nods, her teeth chattering. “I’m very glad you came home after all, Myka.”

Myka smiles, as she gently maneuvers the towel to cover Helena’s back. “Yeah, I tried calling you a few times with no answer. I thought I better come home to make sure something like this hadn’t happened,” she says lightly, eyes shining despite the rather serious situation.

Helena rolls her eyes and huffs in response. “I didn’t plan this.”

“I know,” Myka soothes as she grabs a second towel from the counter where Helena must have placed it, just out of reach for her once she was in the tub. “All right, I’m going to lift you, so grab onto my shoulders to help yourself stand and hold tight, I don’t want you to slip on the wet surface.”

Helena nods and does as instructed; placing her arms around Myka’s slight shoulders as the taller woman carefully begins to lift her to her feet. Helena gasps at the movement and Myka stops abruptly. 

“Okay?” she asks with concern at the sound.

“Mmm, just keep going,” Helena insists. 

Myka stands to her full height, taking Helena with her, making sure Helena carefully steps from the tub before wrapping the second towel around her and walking her into the bedroom, guiding her to sit on the bed. They sit huddled together for a few long moments, Helena laying her head against Myka’s shoulder in exhaustion, Myka feeling Helena shivering through the towels and the blanket she pulls from the bed as she holds Helena close, gently rubbing her arms trying to get her warm. 

When the shivering finally subsides, Myka tells her, “We should get you changed into some warm clothing.”

Helena nods her agreement before Myka slowly removes herself from Helena’s grasp to search through the bag of clothes she packed for Helena, frowning at the sight. 

“I just grabbed the first blouses I came across in your closet, most of these are pretty thin, but I might have something warmer for you to wear,” Myka says moving towards her own closet and smiling to herself when she comes across another old college sweatshirt. “How about this?” she asks holding up the item to show Helena. “You seem to have an affinity for my college sweatshirts,” she grins noticing Helena looking away embarrassed.

“I suppose you’re referring to the sweatshirt you lent me.” 

“The one I lent you over two years ago you mean?” Myka smirks. 

“Yes, well you never asked for its return…so I…neglected to return it,” Helena says flustered. “Besides, it is ever so comfy.”

“You still wear it?” Myka asks surprised.

“Occasionally, just around my apartment,” Helena admits. “When I want to be warm, as I desire to be now,” she says pointedly glancing at the shirt Myka still holds.

“Oh right, sorry,” Myka says distractedly, still processing the image of Helena wearing her old college sweatshirt, purposefully. “Do you need help getting dressed?” she asks, blushing at the thought and turning away to gather the bag of clothes to place on the bed beside Helena. 

“I think I can manage,” Helena smiles softly as she takes the shirt from Myka, “but thank you for your help, Myka.”

Myka nods, brushing a hand across her neck and turning it slowly, still trying to work out the stiffness. “So, are you hungry then?”

Helena manages a laugh at the question. “This is beginning to feel a bit repetitive of this morning, but, yes, I’m famished.”

“Well, we can always change location, eat in the living room, if you feel up to it, instead of in bed.”

Helena nods. “I think I can manage that.”

“Good. You get changed then while I fix lunch,” Myka smiles before leaving Helena alone to dress.

***

Myka places the mugs of soup and plates of grilled cheese sandwiches on the same tray she used this morning, smiling as she remembers the breakfast she and Helena shared, deciding she’s not opposed to a little repetition as long as she is spending the time with Helena. She hears Helena’s voice in the living room as she finishes the final touches for lunch before carrying the tray of food into the living room, finding Helena sitting on the sofa, wearing Myka’s sweatshirt that appears a little too big for her slightly smaller frame. 

“Well, no, not exactly,” Myka overhears Helena talking on her cell phone. “Yes, I realize how it appears but I assure you it’s not…” Helena stops talking abruptly to listen. “We’ve known each other for years, this isn’t like that at all,” Helena gives Myka a brief smile, watching as Myka sets down the tray of food on the coffee table before realizing she forgot to get Helena any water to drink.

Returning to the kitchen, Myka hears more of Helena’s conversation. “Yes, that’s still the correct address. Well no, she doesn’t exactly live there…yes she…well we haven’t decided where to live yet,” Helena says flustered, her dark eyes meeting Myka’s as she enters the room once more. “Just a moment please,” Helena says removing the phone from her ear to place against her chest before speaking.

“Myka, I’ve let Immigration Services know of our marriage, but they’re asking for your address to add to their records,” Helena says looking a little sheepish.

“My address?”

“Yes,” Helena sighs, pulling a hand through her hair. “When they asked if you lived with me, I didn’t know what to say. I told them we hadn’t exactly decided where to live yet, so now they apparently need your address to add to my file as another place of residence. May I give it to them?”

Myka feels her heart beat faster with a brief panic that Immigration Services should need her address to add to their files. But she is also aware that she agreed to this marriage knowing very well there could be repercussions. Will this be one of them? She wonders.

“Yeah, sure,” she says trying not to sound panicked. 

“Thank you, darling,” Helena says before returning to the phone conversation, her eyes on Myka while she gulps down the glass of water intended for Helena.

Realizing she drank Helena’s water, Myka promptly returns to the kitchen to pour another glass, willing herself to calm down. So Immigration Services has her address. It doesn’t necessarily mean anything. As Helena said, surely the government has more important things to look into than one Englishwoman’s immigration status. At least Myka sure hopes so as she makes her way back into the living room where Helena ends the phone conversation and tosses her phone onto the coffee table in apparent frustration. 

“So, that went well?” Myka questions as she sets the water glass on the table.

Helena sighs. “As well as one can expect, I suppose, when dealing with the government, yes,” she says leaning further back into the sofa, running a hand through her hair in agitation.

Myka nods biting her lip worriedly, wondering what exactly she’s gotten into that Immigration Services should need her address. “At least you informed them of the situation. So now you won’t be deported, right?”

“They made no mention of it over the phone, so I would assume not.”

“Good,” Myka breathes, beginning to feel a little more at ease. “Ready for lunch then?”

“You made me soup?” Helena asks in surprise as she notices the steaming cup on the coffee table for the first time.

“Yeah, you know, something warm…it will help you feel better,” Myka shrugs. 

“No one has ever made me soup before,” Helena speaks softly.

“Well, it’s not homemade, I only opened a can and heated it up,” Myka speaks apologetically. “I can actually make soup though, when I have the time. And really, no one has ever just heated up a can of soup for you?” she asks incredulous.

“No,” Helena affirms.

“Not even Giselle?” and Myka hates herself a little for asking, especially given the way Helena is looking at her now through narrowed eyes as if trying to read her thoughts, and Myka wishes she’d never come across that picture in Helena’s desk drawer.

“Not even Giselle,” Helena sighs as Myka fluffs a pillow and carefully places it behind Helena. “You never cared for her, did you?” Helena asks looking up at Myka who stands over her as she places the pillow. She’s so close, her lips just a breath away that Helena is instantly reminded of their shared kiss the night before. She could easily pull Myka into a kiss now if she only thought it would be welcomed, and her breathing hitches at the thought. 

“I…didn’t really know her,” Myka is quick to answer and quicker still to move away from Helena after realizing how close she is hovering over her. She grasps a blanket from the back of the sofa and focuses on unfolding it. 

“I only met Giselle the one time you introduced us, and it wasn’t under the best of circumstances, just leaving work for the evening. I wasn’t exactly…prepared to meet her at that moment,” Myka says remembering how she and Helena had taken the elevator together that evening, riding down in companionable conversation, only to be stopped short by finding Giselle waiting in the lobby for Helena. 

“I didn’t intend for you to meet Giselle that way…I didn’t intend for you to meet her at all to be perfectly honest,” Helena mutters, idly staring into her mug of soup.

Myka frowns at this information. “Why not?” she asks looking up from her task.

Helena wishes she’d never said a word. “No reason, darling,” she tries to smile. “I just didn’t see any reason for you two to meet.”

“But you dated for a couple months. I thought things were getting serious between you. And I thought we were friends…so why wouldn’t you share your…happiness with me?” Myka asks sounding hurt.

“It was inevitable it was only going to be a temporary relationship.”

“Why do you say that?” Myka frowns. 

“Have you ever known me to have a relationship lasting longer than a few months?”

“Well…no,” Myka admits. 

“That’s why. I’m seemingly incapable of inspiring the kind of…devotion one would expect in a committed relationship,” Helena says quietly. 

“I don’t believe that, Helena,” Myka says softly. “You’re capable, more than capable of both giving and receiving devotion. You just…need the right person.”

“Perhaps,” Helena concedes, “but Giselle wasn’t the right one for me. Let’s leave it at that,” she smiles briefly before sipping at her soup. 

Myka finishes getting Helena settled on the sofa, covering her with a blanket, tucking it around her legs before finally sitting down beside Helena and taking a bite of her sandwich. 

Helena watches her curiously. “Aren’t you returning to work this afternoon?”

“No, I called Leena while you were changing to let her know I’m going to stay home with you the rest of the day.”

Helena intends to protest but considering the events of the morning decides against it. Also, the way Myka is looking at her, as if ready for Helena’s protest with her own argument for staying, she determines she’s better off having Myka near and simply nods before taking a bite of her own sandwich. 

*** 

The remainder of the afternoon passes quietly for the two women. Helena alternating between sleeping and reading one of Myka’s many novels, for though Myka brought home her laptop, she refuses to let Helena do any actual work.

“Rest today. You can work tomorrow if you feel better,” Myka tells her, so rest Helena does, until she becomes restless. 

Setting aside the novel, she slowly stands from the sofa in search of Myka, whom she finds as expected in the second bedroom Myka uses for an office. Myka doesn’t hear her approach, so Helena watches silently as Myka types on her computer, music softly playing on the stereo of an operatic singer Helena recognizes as one of Myka’s favorite artists. Her unruly curls are pulled back into a loose ponytail and she is wearing dark-rimmed glasses. As she brushes a stray curl from her face, Helena is struck by how beautiful Myka truly is.

She must have audibly sighed at the thought because Myka suddenly looks up from her computer to meet Helena’s eyes.

“Helena,” Myka says removing her glasses as she stands from her desk, “you’re awake,” she smiles. “Last time I checked on you, you were sound asleep. I didn’t want to disturb you, so decided to get some work done in here,” she says turning off the stereo.

“Very thoughtful of you, but you never disturb me,” Helena says as she notices Myka grasp at her neck. “Is your neck still sore?”

“A little,” Myka admits dropping her hand away. “But how are you feeling?”

“Better I think,” Helena smiles. “At least I’m finding it slightly easier to get around.”

“That’s good,” Myka smiles. “So, it’s nearly six o’clock. I was thinking I could order dinner from that Thai restaurant you like, if you’re hungry that is.”

“Famished,” Helena grins, earning a laugh from Myka. “Really, that sounds lovely, Myka.”

“Good. I’ll order now,” she says grabbing her cell phone. “You want your usual?”

“Please,” Helena replies eagerly.

After Myka places their order, Helena follows her into the kitchen where Myka gathers plates, silverware and glasses of water before carrying it all into the living room to set on the coffee table. 

“I thought we could watch a movie with dinner,” Myka says as Helena carefully sits down.

“I’d like that,” Helena readily assents, adjusting a pillow behind her back as Myka covers her legs with the blanket, tucking it around her much as she did earlier in the afternoon.

“Are you comfortable?” Myka asks.

“As much as my back will allow at the moment, yes I am,” Helena assures. 

“It’s probably a little late for me to ask,” Myka begins, “but…circumstances being what they were this afternoon, I forgot to ask if you wanted to return to your place tonight. And when you fell asleep so quickly after lunch, I didn’t get a chance to ask. If you’d be more comfortable at your apartment, we can pack up after dinner and stay the night there.”

Helena smiles at Myka’s obvious concern for her comfort. “Thank you, Myka, but I don’t see the need to go to that trouble. At the moment all I can think of is all the unnecessary walking that would involve. I’m not sure my back can stand it at the moment. Besides, I’m quite comfortable here in your apartment…even in your clothes,” she smirks, causing Myka to laugh. “I’d rather stay here tonight, that is if you’re comfortable with my being here.”

“Of course,” Myka says. “You’re welcome to stay here as long as you like, Helena.”

“Thank you, Myka.”

“And we can always reevaluate tomorrow, decide what to do based on how you’re feeling then.”

“Righty-ho then,” Helena smiles at Myka who smiles back. Their momentary stare is broken by the sound of the doorbell.

Myka glances down at her watch. “That was a fast delivery,” she says quickly standing to answer the door. 

Opening the door, Myka is startled to see not the delivery boy as expected, but an attractive, professionally dressed Asian woman who smiles at her.

“Myka Bering?” she asks.

“Yes,” Myka answers cautiously. 

The woman smiles wider. “I’m Abigail Cho,” she says extending her hand in introduction. “I’m sorry to interrupt your evening. I first went to Ms. Wells’ apartment, but when she didn’t answer, I thought perhaps I’d find her here, since my records show you two have recently married.”

“And how do you know this exactly?” Myka asks feeling that her worst fear is being realized. She’s sure of it when Ms. Cho goes on to explain.

“I’m with Immigration Services. It’s my understanding Ms. Wells’ visa has expired, and coincidentally, she has also just been married…to you. It’s my job to conduct an investigation to ensure there is no fraud involved. Is she here? May I speak with her?”

This has to be the plot of some lousy movie, Myka thinks, this can’t actually be happening, but as Ms. Cho remains standing patiently at her door, a smile in place, Myka knows it’s not a movie; but what she has feared would come to pass the moment she accepted Helena’s proposal.

Exhaling slowly, Myka nods. “Yeah, she’s here.”

“Wonderful. I am sorry to intrude,” Ms. Cho apologizes, “but as a matter of protocol, I have to ask you both some questions. May I come inside?”

“Of course,” Myka agrees, allowing the woman entrance into her apartment before closing the door. She leads Ms. Cho into the living room, calling out “Sweetheart, we have company.” Myka just hopes Helena doesn’t laugh aloud at the endearment.

Helena doesn’t laugh, but she does look bewildered as Myka and Ms. Cho enter the living room.

“Hello, and who might you be?” she asks cheerfully as she struggles to move enough to place her glass of water on the coffee table in front of her. Myka sees her struggle and quickly takes the glass from her hand to place it on the table for her. “Thank you, darling,” she speaks to Myka before looking back at the woman before her.

“Helena, this is Ms. Cho from Immigration Services. She’s here to make sure our marriage isn’t some sort of fraud,” she explains giving Helena a significant look as if to say, ‘don’t screw this up.’ 

Helena smiles back at Myka as if to say, ‘message received.’ 

“Fraud?” Helena questions. “Why would anyone suggest something so outlandish?” she asks as she slips her hand into Myka’s to guide her down on the sofa beside her, gently running her thumb over Myka’s knuckles. Myka knows the contact is meant to both comfort her and help sell their case to Ms. Cho, but Myka’s heart beats erratically within her chest, whether from Ms. Cho’s sudden appearance or Helena’s touch, she’s can’t determine. 

“Unfortunately, fraud is quite common in this kind of situation,” Ms. Cho begins to explain. “I’m here only to make sure that is not the case with you, so I just have a few questions to ask.”

“Won’t you sit down, Ms. Cho?” Myka asks more calmly than she feels.

“Thank you, and please just call me Abigail,” she smiles at the women before opening her notebook and beginning to write.

Myka looks at Helena startled and Helena responds with a gentle squeeze of her hand.

“To begin,” Abigail starts, “you appear to be unwell, Ms. Wells, are you alright?”

Helena gives Abigail her most charming smile. “The name is Bering-Wells now,” she gently corrects looking at Myka with a more sincere smile, but please, just call me Helena. And as to your question, I’ve suffered a back injury that has left me slightly incapacitated at the moment.”

“I’m sorry to hear that. May I ask how it happened?”

“I slipped in the shower of all things,” Helena laughs then looks at Myka and smirks. 

Myka knows that smirk. That smirk is nothing short of dangerous and she mentally prepares herself for the worst.

“It happened just last night, our wedding night,” she says leaning into Myka. “We may have been a little…overzealous in our…activities.”

Myka wasn’t prepared for that. “ _Helena_ ,” she groans, covering her face with the hand that isn’t being held in Helena’s.

Helena laughs brightly. “You’ll have to excuse Myka, Abigail. My wife is quite shy about these things and I don’t share her sensitivity in that regard.

Abigail laughs with her. “It’s nothing to be embarrassed about, Ms. Bering-Wells,” she kindly addresses Myka. “These things happen.”

Myka nods as she rubs at her neck. “Yeah…Helena can be a little…over enthusiastic sometimes,” she smiles awkwardly. 

“About you, darling, always,” Helena quickly interjects and Myka feels a blush in her cheeks.

Abigail just laughs. “Well, seeing that you are unwell at the moment, I’ll try to keep my questions to a minimum for now. How long have you two known each other?”

“Three years,” they both reply and smile at one another.

Abigail makes a notation. “And, Helena, you originally came to the country for work, is that correct?”

“Yes. Mrs. Frederic, my employer was aware of my work in London and duly impressed, asked me to join Endless Wonder Book Publishers.”

“And that was three years ago?”

“Yes.”

“I see. How long have you and Myka been together romantically?”

At this Helena falters, looking at Myka. “Well, that’s a little harder to pinpoint. My feelings for Myka have always been…complex. But we really didn’t start dating until nearly…oh when would you say, darling? A month or so ago?”

“Yes,” Myka manages to breathe. “That sounds about right.”

“A month isn’t a very long courtship to then decide to get married,” Abigail interjects.

“Perhaps not for those couples just getting to know each other, but remember, Myka and I have been friends for three years. We know each other better than anyone else,” Helena smiles at Myka who returns the smile.

“And your imminent deportation had nothing to do with your sudden marriage?” Abigail questions further.

Helena begins to answer, but Myka quickly intercedes. 

“Truthfully…Abigail, Helena’s possible deportation did play a role in our sudden marriage as you put it.”

“Myka…” Helena starts in surprise.

“It’s all right, Helena,” Myka squeezes her hand. “I just think we need to be honest about this.” Turning her attention to Abigail she explains, “When we realized Helena neglected to renew her visa, we panicked. And I couldn’t bear the thought of her returning to London, but then we realized a solution. Since we loved each other, why not just get married? So that’s what we did. The circumstances may not have been ideal, but our marriage isn’t a fraud,” she says resolutely. 

“I see,” Abigail says looking closely at the two women. She wants to believe them. It would be easy to believe them, as they truly do seem to radiate affection for each other in their shared looks and clasped hands, but that could just as easily be explained as friendship than an actual romantic attachment. In Abigail’s experience, the married couples always have a reason they believe to be valid for committing the fraud. Her job isn’t to form opinion but to decipher the truth. 

“You mentioned you were married just last night, is that right?” Abigail continues. 

“Yes,” Helena says.

“Where were you married?”

“In the county courthouse.”

“Were any friends or family in attendance?”

“No, they weren’t,” Helena responds quietly.

“Why is that? It’s rather unusual not to include loved ones in such an occasion, isn’t it?” Abigail prods.

“The only family I have is my brother in London. There was no opportunity for him to attend on such short notice,” Helena says. 

“What about your family, Myka? Why didn’t they attend the ceremony?”

“Helena and I thought it would be more romantic to elope,” Myka explains. “My younger sister was married a few years ago and her wedding was so large and overdone, Helena and I wanted our wedding to be small and intimate…and it was,” she smiles at Helena who can’t help but return the smile. 

“Does your family know of the marriage then?” Abigail persists.

“Not yet,” Myka admits, “but when Helena injured herself last night, our focus has been on treating her injury and I just haven’t taken the time to tell my family the news yet.”

Abigail writes again in her notebook. “I can’t help noticing that while you wear a wedding ring Helena, you don’t, Myka,” Abigail states, noticing the way Myka’s eyes widen before looking down at her hand where a ring should be. “Did you not receive a ring as well?”

“I did,” Myka says, “but I removed it earlier…and obviously forgot to put it on again. I’m just not used to wearing it yet, I guess,” she says grasping at her neck.

Abigail makes another notation in her book before looking up again to meet two sets of worried eyes looking back at her. She tries to smile reassuringly. 

“I don’t want to alarm you, but you need to be aware that committing marriage fraud to gain residency in the country is a serious crime. And based on what you’ve told me so far about your sudden elopement, the evidence suggests that this marriage is actually a close friend helping out another friend. You don’t even share an apartment at the moment according to my records.”

Both Helena and Myka remain silent at Abigail’s sobering words and startle at the sound of the doorbell.

Myka jumps from the sofa. “Excuse me, I ordered dinner earlier,” she says quickly answering the door to pay for their food.

“Would you like to join us for dinner, Abigail?” Myka asks when she returns with the food.

“No thank you,” Abigail says rising from her chair. “I’ve taken up enough of your time this evening. “I want you both to know, that it’s obvious that you care for each other, but whether it’s love or friendship is what I am required to determine, and to make that determination, I will conduct a series of drop by visitations in your home to observe you together and ask questions about your relationship.”

“Drop by visitations?” Helena asks.

“Yes, surprise visits,” Abigail explains. “Will this apartment become your permanent residency?”

Helena looks at Myka with uncertainty.

“Yes, it will be,” Myka answers for her. “You know my place is bigger, Helena, and you’ve mentioned how much you like staying here.”

“It’s certainly true that I’m very comfortable here,” Helena agrees.

“I’m glad that’s settled at least,” Abigail smiles at them. “I hope you recover quickly, Helena and I look forward to seeing you both again soon. Goodnight,” she says as Myka sees her to the door and falls back against it after Abigail leaves.

“Oh dear,” Helena breathes. “Whatever are we going to do, Myka?”

Myka looks at Helena, this incredibly beautiful, injured and now extremely worried woman that she loves more than anyone else in the world and makes a decision. She straightens from the door and moves back to the sofa.

“For now? We’re going to eat dinner and watch a movie together as planned.”

“What?” Helena asks surprised, a smile beginning spread across her features.

Myka dishes the food onto plates for them both, handing Helena her plate. “We’re not going to worry about this tonight, Helena,” Myka says adamantly. Besides worrying about it won’t help the problem.”

Helena observes Myka, this beautiful, loyal to a fault and extremely worried woman who has done nothing but taken care of her all day and continues to care for her now. Helena knows that Myka needs to process this new development so she lets her as they both settle against pillows to eat dinner and watch a movie as originally planned. 

But while Myka remains quiet, gazing at the flickering screen, Helena knows her focus isn’t on the movie at all, but on Ms. Cho’s visit and the subsequent visits to come. She knows this because she knows Myka and she’s just as concerned about the situation at hand. Helena desperately wants to offer words of reassurance, but truthfully, she is at a loss what to do except confess the truth and be deported to London. 

The thought leaves Helena feeling desolate as she tiredly lays her head against Myka’s shoulder, seeking to be closer to her, sighing when Myka rubs a soothing hand along her arm, whispering, “It’ll be all right, we’ll figure this out, Helena.” 

Helena longs to believe that but remains silent, fearful that nothing will ever be all right again. 

***

Do you want something to sleep in tonight?” Myka asks as they enter the bedroom to finally retire for the night. “I have extra camisoles and shorts if you want.”

“Yes, thank you,” Helena assents watching as Myka searches through drawers to pull out the desired articles of clothing.

“Here you are,” Myka says giving Helena the clothing. 

“Thank you, darling,” Helena says, smiling softly as she takes the clothing and disappears into the bathroom to change. When she finishes dressing and returns to the bedroom, she sees Myka setting a fresh glass of water on the nightstand.

“I brought water for you and your medication too,” Myka says trying not to let her eyes linger too long on Helena’s figure and bare legs, turning away to gather a pillow from the bed. 

“Myka, I insist you sleep here tonight,” Helena says realizing Myka’s intention to sleep on the sofa again. 

“Really, I’m fine on the sofa,” Myka protests.

“You’re not,” Helena argues. “You’ve been massaging your neck all day, I know it’s bothering you and I don’t want you to experience any more discomfort, especially when it can easily be avoided.”

“Helena…”

“Myka, please,” Helena interrupts softly. “You’ve already done so much, you don’t need to sacrifice your own bed and comfort too.”

Myka is still hesitant, unsure she will be comfortable sharing the bed with Helena being close enough to touch, but unable to touch her. It might be too much to bear. She shakes her head adamantly. “I could hurt you…”

“Your bed is more than big enough to fit us both,” Helena says, seeing the trepidation in Myka’s eyes. “I’m confident you won’t hurt me and I doubt very much that you kick in your sleep,” she smiles. “Please, Myka,” she entreats again.

Myka nods then. “All right. I’ll just get ready for bed then,” she says grabbing sleep clothes to take with her into the bathroom to change. Locking the door behind her, she takes a steadying breath. She’s about to sleep with Helena, in the most literal sense of the word, but still. She’s going to sleep beside the woman she’s in love with who, as fate would have it, is also her wife. And it’s not as if they haven’t shared such a close proximity before. Myka has fallen asleep on Helena’s sofa with Helena right beside her, but this is different. This will be in a bed, under sheets where bare legs and arms can easily slide and brush against each other. Myka feels a steady heat travel through her body at the prospect, wondering how she is to survive the night. She quickly brushes her teeth and slips on a camisole and sleep shorts. When she steps out of the bathroom it is to find Helena already in bed, laying against the pillows, looking beautiful with her dark hair fanned against the pillow and her gaze intent on Myka. 

“I forgot to ask, do you have a preferred side of the bed?” Helena asks.

“You’re fine where you are,” Myka assures as she hangs her clothing in the closet.

“You’re certain?”

“Yeah,” Myka says offering a shy smile as she steps out of the closet, tucking a stray curl behind her ear as she moves towards her dresser. Removing her wristwatch, she catches sight of her wedding ring sitting on the surface; this little ring that the absence of nearly helped destroyed their cover earlier in the evening. Thinking again that she is about to share a bed with her wife, Myka slips the ring onto her finger before walking toward the bed.

“Is there anything else you need before going to sleep?” Myka asks, unable to keep the slight waver from her voice as her nerves get the better of her.

“I’m fine, but thank you for asking,” Helena says offering what she hopes to be an encouraging smile.

Myka nods as she turns down the bedcovers on her side of the bed and carefully slips in beside Helena. She fluffs her pillow, letting the action give her a moment to adjust to the fact Helena lies mere inches from her, willing herself not to be intoxicated by Helena’s soft scent. 

Pulling the covers over her, Myka clears her throat before looking over at Helena and asking, “Are you okay?”

“Yes.”

“And you’re sure you’re all right with me sleeping here?” Myka asks, still uncertain about the arrangement.

“Of course, Myka. It will be fine. For all we know, _I_ may kick _you_ in sleep,” she smiles when Myka laughs lightly.

“Ready for the light to be turned off?”

“Mmm,” Helena agrees.

“Goodnight, Helena,” Myka says as she turns off the lamp by her bedside.

“Goodnight, Myka,” Helena sighs.

Myka carefully pulls the covers further over herself, adjusting her sleep position slightly, trying not to create too much movement that could disturb Helena. She lays in the dark silence for several moments, acutely aware of Helena beside her, listening to her soft breathing. Finally closing her eyes, Myka sighs, trying to concentrate on her own breathing, hoping to lull herself to sleep despite the fact all she can think of at the moment is Helena beside her. 

Her eyes startle open at the first sound of Helena’s voice breaking through the silence.

“I never intended for any of this to happen, Myka,” she says softly. “I’m so sorry.”

“Shh, it’s okay, Helena,” Myka soothes, finding Helena’s hand under the covers and grasping it to give it a gentle squeeze of reassurance. “I told you earlier, we’ll figure this out. How hard can it really be to convince a government agency that we’re actually married because we want to be, and not because of some technicality?”

“I don’t want you to be punished for my mistake,” Helena says quietly.

“It will all work out,” Myka insists. “We’ll figure this out…but in the morning,” she says stifling a yawn. “Please, Helena, don’t worry about it tonight. Leave it for the morning when we’re better rested and can see things in a clearer light.”

“All right, darling,” Helena says still holding tight to Myka’s hand in hers, feeling as she does the smooth texture of a ring. The discovery makes Helena smile through silent tears. Myka is wearing her wedding ring again. Perhaps they truly are in this marriage, for better or worse, together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know it's improbable that Immigration Services would turn up so soon after the wedding, as in my experience government agencies never work quite that fast, but this is a trope story after all and I had to get the plot moving.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry for the long delay in updating, but I struggled with this chapter. Thank you for your patience and as always, thank you for reading.

Despite the exhaustion she feels, sleep remains elusive for Myka for some time. Helena’s grip on her hand is firm, suggesting that Helena is contemplating the events of the evening much the same way Myka is processing it now in the dark of the bedroom, Helena’s soft breathing beside her the only sound in the otherwise silent room. She told Helena earlier in the evening that it shouldn’t be difficult to convince Immigration Services they married for love, but Myka has her doubts. She loves Helena, but she doesn’t know how to convince Ms. Cho of that fact without also revealing it to Helena. 

Feeling the hand in hers become slack, Myka realizes Helena has finally drifted off to sleep and she turns her head to observe the steady rise and fall of Helena’s form as she sleeps. Myka sighs then and closes her eyes, content at last something feels perfectly right with Helena warm and safe beside her, their hands still entwined she finally allows herself to succumb to sleep. 

The room is still dark when the pain in Helena’s back surfaces again. She tries to arch her back, realizing too late the movement is slightly prohibited by the weight of Myka’s arm draped protectively across her abdomen. Helena is loathe to wake her sleeping companion, and would truly love nothing more than to fall back asleep with Myka wrapped around her, but the pain persists and she tries to adjust her position, unable to restrain a groan as the movement only causes further pain. 

“Helena?” Myka says groggily, stirring from sleep at Helena’s movement and sounds of discomfort. Helena feels Myka’s arm fall away as she uses it to tiredly rub at her eyes. 

“I’m sorry I woke you,” Helena whispers.

“It’s fine. Are you all right? Do you need anything?”

Helena eyes haven’t yet adjusted to the dark so she can’t make out Myka’s features, but she hears her voice. A voice that doesn’t sound annoyed or upset by being awoken in the middle of the night from a sound sleep. She hears only concern in Myka’s voice, concern for her and it is Helena’s undoing. 

“No,” Helena shakes her head, feeling hot tears begin to prick at her eyes. “My back aches and in trying to find a comfortable position I managed only to wake you. I’m sorry, Myka.”

“Hey, it’s all right…”

“It isn’t,” Helena insists. “I hate this…hate that I’ve become an imposition to you,” she says unable to hold back a sniffle. 

The sniffle startles Myka, knowing Helena doesn’t succumb to tears easily. She quickly turns on the lamp by the bedside to see Helena blink against the sudden light, tears of frustration gathered in her dark eyes.

“Oh, Helena,” she breathes, reaching a hand out to touch her cheek, her fingers absorbing the tears she finds there. “You’re not an imposition at all,” Myka soothes.

Helena looks up into Myka’s sympathetic gaze, feels her fingers brush against her cheek so softly and her breath constricts inside her chest. 

“You’re not an imposition,” Myka repeats softly.

Helena actually manages a laugh then, her eyes still intent on Myka. “Really, darling? I’ve taken your bed, your food, your clothes, and now your sleep,” she says raising a skeptical brow.

“And I don’t mind any of it,” Myka says, her thumb still tracing Helena’s cheek. 

Helena opens her mouth to argue but closes it again. There is nothing she can say to dispute the way Myka is looking at her now, her green eyes soft with concern.

“You’re the most independent person I know, Helena, and I can imagine how you hate having to have to depend on someone else, but we’re friends…best friends…wives even,” Myka smiles softly. “So just…let me help you, all right?”

Helena’s dark eyes search Myka’s, seeing only the truth of her statement reflected there. “All right,” she nods. “But I am sorry I woke you.”

“There’s no need to be sorry,” Myka answers before she slips from the bed then and Helena isn’t sorry at all that she is able to see Myka this way again, her hair wild from sleep, wearing nothing more than the thin camisole and shorts, her lean legs on display. She watches silently as Myka grabs the water glass from Helena’s bedside table. “I’ll get you some fresh water and your medication.”

Helena nods before carefully moving to sit up against the pillows. 

Myka returns quickly with the medication and water, Helena dutifully swallowing down the water, watching Myka over the rim of the glass as she rubs at her bare arms.

“Cold, darling?” Helena asks handing Myka the glass, noting goosebumps dot along her skin.

“A little,” Myka shrugs setting down the glass. “Is there anything else I can get you while I’m up?”

“No,” Helena shakes her head, watching closely as Myka bites her lip in contemplation. “What is it?” she asks.

“I was just thinking…you didn’t have much trouble sleeping last night…maybe you’d sleep better being able to stretch across the whole bed. I could go back to the sofa.”

“Why? Do I snore?” Helena asks amused.

“No,” Myka shakes her head.

“Grind my teeth?”

“No.”

“Am I a notorious blanket thief?”

“No,” Myka says, a smile beginning to tug at her lips.

“Drool profusely?” Helena quirks a skeptical brow. 

Myka laughs outright. “No, none of that,” she concedes. 

“Well then, there’s no reason for you to vacate this bed. You did say I wasn’t an imposition,” Helena reminds softly.

“You’re not, Helena,” Myka reaffirms. “I just want to make sure you’re comfortable, that’s all.”

“I’m comfortable…with you.”

Myka nods, brunette curls obscuring the blush that threatens to bloom in her cheeks. “Okay,” she says sliding back into bed, pulling the covers over her chest to ward off the chill she still feels. “All settled then?” she asks watching Helena’s silent nod before turning off the light again. “Goodnight, Helena.”

“Goodnight, Myka.” Helena feels the bed dip as Myka turns onto her side to sleep. She lies awake in the stillness for a long time, listening to Myka’s breathing, hearing when it evens out as sleep overtakes her at last. Only then does Helena allow herself to fall into sleep, knowing Myka is there, warm and safe beside her. 

***

The sun shines warm across the bed, its light dancing behind Helena’s closed eyelids as she slowly withdraws from sleep, becoming aware of her surroundings, feeling a dull ache in her back that has thankfully abated from the sharp pain she felt before. Struggling to open her eyes against sleep, she is keenly aware of the softness of the mattress and the warmth of the blankets. But she is also aware of something else, a familiar weight. Myka’s arm is draped across her abdomen once more, holding her close in sleep. Myka is so close to her, turned into her that Helena can feel the steady rhythm of her breathing, hot and steady against her neck.

The ache of her back persists, but it is endurable, and Helena will gladly endure it to allow Myka to continue sleeping, more so that she may remain in Myka’s warm embrace. 

Helena slowly turns her head to the side to look upon the sleeping woman beside her. She sighs contentedly, observing Myka sleeping so peacefully and she is struck again by how beautiful Myka truly is; her face framed by riotous curls. Glorious curls Helena has longed to catch her fingers in, also spill across the pillow, a few obscuring Myka’s face. Needing to see Myka’s features in sleep, Helena carefully brushes a fingertip along a strand of hair to move it aside, revealing a small beauty mark high on the sleeping woman’s cheek. Gently she reaches a single fingertip to brush over the beauty mark, tracing Myka’s cheek until bright green eyes quite suddenly flutter open at her touch.

“Helena?” Myka says groggily attempting to focus, startling when dark brown eyes gaze at her merely inches away. Realizing her arm is wrapped around the other woman, Myka pulls back suddenly. “Oh god, I’m sorry, Helena. Did I hurt you?” she asks panicked, attempting to sit up.

“Relax, Myka,” Helena says catching her hand before she can completely retreat. “I’m fine, you didn’t hurt me.”

“Are you sure?”

“It appears all that worry about you kicking me was for naught. You’re not a kicker after all but rather a cuddler in sleep,” Helena grins, her eyes shining as she watches a blush rise in Myka’s cheeks.

“I did warn you I didn’t know what I might do,” Myka mumbles.

“Yes you did, and I’m delighted to discover your proclivity to cuddle.”

Myka clears her throat at the sight of Helena smirking at her, dark eyes shining brightly. “So I take it since you’re teasing me this morning you must be feeling better?”

“I am,” Helena assents. “There is still some pain, discomfort, but it’s not as severe as it was before.”

“That’s good. Should I get your medication anyway?” Myka asks, intending to push back the covers to leave the bed.

“No, please stay,” Helena says grasping her hand once more to pull her back, not letting go until Myka settles under the covers again, looking at her expectantly. “We should talk…about what we plan to do now.” When Myka remains silent, Helena continues. “Perhaps I should confess to Immigration Services the true nature of our arrangement. If I do so now, we can hope there will be no lasting repercussions.”

Myka sighs. “Is that what you really want? I thought you wanted to stay here,” she speaks softly, her eyes looking everywhere but at Helena.

“I do want to stay here, Myka,” Helena answers just as softly, “but not at the cost of losing you.”

Myka looks at her confused. “How will you lose me if you stay?”

“I’m afraid you’ll grow to resent me for putting you through this ordeal. After all, we have no way of knowing how long we’ll have to keep up this charade.”

“Yeah, that’s probably something we should have asked Ms. Cho about,” Myka concedes. “But as for me resenting you or you losing me, it’s never going to happen, Helena because I…care about you,” she says turning away from Helena’s intense gaze. “You know you’re my best friend.”

“And you are mine,” Helena says squeezing Myka’s hand.

Myka looks at their entwined fingers before looking into Helena’s concerned face. “I guess more to the point, I need reassurance that you really want to go through with this. We married with the idea that nothing would change except a certificate that states we’re legally married. Now, to convince Immigration Services we married for…love, and not to avoid your deportation, we’re going to have to act the part. Are you really okay with that?” Myka asks nervously.

Helena watches as Myka bites her lip in trepidation and she smiles softly at the sight. “I think the better question to ask is are you okay with this, Myka? I fail to see what benefit this can possibly bring to you. I get what I want, to remain in Denver, but what do you get from going through with this?”

“I already told you that, Helena. You…you staying here is what I get, what I want. I don’t want you to leave.”

“Are you absolutely certain, Myka?” Helena asks, her dark eyes searching Myka’s, imploring her to speak the truth.

“I’m certain, Helena,” Myka answers honestly. “I want to be married to you…at least for as long as we need to be married to keep you here,” she rushes to say, feeling a blush spread across her cheeks at her near confession.

“It seems we’ve made our first decision as newlyweds then,” Helena smiles.

Myka returns the smile. “I guess the next decision we need to make is what to do about your apartment, since you’re going to have to move into my place now.”

Helena nods. “I suppose I’ll give up the lease for now, considering we have no idea how long this arrangement of convincing Immigration Services of our marriage status will last. 

“You’re sure you’ll be okay living here?”

“I don’t think I have much choice in the matter, but yes, I think I’ll enjoy living here…with you, Myka,” she smiles. “We’ll be roommates.”

“Yeah, I guess we will,” Myka replies, grasping at her neck. “Well, we should probably get up, get some breakfast,” she says starting to rise from the bed at last.

“If you insist,” Helena replies with a longsuffering sigh as she slowly removes herself from the bed.

“Are you okay?” Myka asks observing her careful movements and stepping closer to assist Helena if needed.

“Yes, I’m fine, just being cautious,” she replies as she moves towards the bathroom.

“Do you want any medication now?”

“No, I think I’ll try without for a while, see how things go.”

“All right. I’ll get breakfast ready,” Myka says turning to leave the bedroom. 

“If you’d like, I can make omelets,” Helena offers.

Myka looks at her surprised. “Are you sure you’re feeling up to it?”

“It shouldn’t take too long to fix. Dr. Calder did say I should resume my normal activities when possible.”

“Yeah, but she also said to rest. I don’t want you to exert yourself.”

Helena laughs. “I’d hardly consider making an omelet exerting myself, darling.”

“If you’re sure,” Myka says sounding anything but sure, leaving the bedroom for the kitchen where she starts the coffee maker and teakettle. 

Helena finds her there moments later, ingredients for an omelet laid out on the counter, a skillet ready on the stove and Myka cutting up cantaloupe and setting the slices onto plates. It’s all so domesticated, Helena for a moment is unable to catch her breath at the sight, something within her feeling so content and happy in this moment, especially since Myka looks up at her entrance, smiling in that way only Myka can.

“I don’t know what cheese you usually use for an omelet, I only have cheddar,” Myka speaks apologetically. “But if you prefer another cheese, just add it to the grocery list on the fridge and I can get it for you at the market tomorrow morning when I do the grocery shopping.”

Helena glances at the block of cheese, eggs, tomatoes and green pepper spread out on the counter. “Cheddar will work fine. I’m quite impressed that you have tomatoes and peppers to add to it.”

“I try to keep a variety of food in my kitchen,” Myka smiles. “But I wasn’t sure what you’d like. I know some people like mushrooms too. If you want mushrooms, I can get those tomorrow, but don’t expect me to eat them.”

Helena laughs. “Yes, I know you’re not a fan of mushrooms, since I always take them when you pick them off your pizza,” she says with a smirk as she begins to cut the washed tomatoes.

“I don’t know how you can stand those mushy things,” Myka shudders as she finishes with the cantaloupe and unwraps the cheese to begin grating it. 

“Those mushy things are delicious,” Helena declares laughing at the disgusted face Myka makes at her declaration. 

They work well together in the kitchen. Helena cracking the eggs, adding them to the skillet, Myka cleaning off the cutting board and putting away the food until finally they both sit down at the table to enjoy their efforts together. 

***

Myka has no sooner finished putting away the dishes than they both startle at the sound of the doorbell, instantly thinking back to last night and the sudden appearance of Abigail Cho.

“You don’t think Ms. Cho would come again so soon?” Helena asks incredulous. 

“At this point, I think anything is possible,” Myka replies warily. “But on the bright side, we’re both still in our sleep clothes, so hopefully that will lend some credibility to our marriage,” she says walking to answer the door.

Myka couldn’t have been more surprised than if it had been Ms. Cho at the door, though she realized too late she shouldn’t have been surprised at all.

“Mom! Tracy! You’re here…and I…oh god…I completely forgot about the shopping expedition today,” she says pushing curls from her face, leaving a hand in her hair as she tries to come up with some explanation.

“That’s obvious, Myka, you’re not even dressed,” Tracy laughs surprised taking in the appearance of Myka still wearing only a camisole and shorts. “What’s going on with you? Are you feeling all right? You never forget things,” she says, her eyes narrowing in suspicion as she studies her older sister who appears to be flustered for some unknown reason.

“You do appear a little flushed. Are you feeling all right, dear?” Jeannie asks concerned, reaching out a hand to quickly cup Myka’s cheek before brushing it across her forehead to check Myka’s temperature.

“Yeah, Mom, I’m fine,” Myka assures stepping back to allow them entrance into her apartment and following them into the living room. “It’s just been a hectic few days and…”

“Helena!” Jeannie says surprised noticing the woman sitting on the sofa with wide eyes.

“And Helena’s here,” Myka finishes her sentence.

“Hello Mrs. Bering, Tracy,” Helena smiles. “It’s lovely to see you both again.”

“Helena, I’ve told you before, please call me Jeannie,” the older woman gently chastises. 

“Jeannie,” Helena assents with a slight nod, her eyes traveling briefly to Myka before settling on the younger sister. 

“Tracy, you look radiant. Pregnancy certainly must agree with you,” Helena smiles as the woman gently cradles her stomach.

“Oh, it’s had its challenges, but once the baby is here, it will all be worth it.”

“I’m sure it will,” Helena agrees. “Myka mentioned that you plan to do some shopping for the baby today. That should make for a pleasant day for all of you. A little mother, daughter, sister bonding,” she smiles.

“You can join us if you like,” Tracy says eagerly.

“Yes, please do,” Jeannie adds, “we’d love to have you come with us.”

“Well I…” Helena says surprised by their genuine invitation, “that’s very kind of you to offer, but I’m afraid I wouldn’t be good company today. I managed to injure my back the other night and movement right now is a bit of a challenge to say the least. Myka has been kind enough to look after me these last couple days,” she says smiling at Myka who manages a soft smile in return even though the rest of her body language resonates tension.

Tracy notices her sister’s tension and the soft looks shared between the two women. “What’s going on with you, Myka?” she asks. “You look nervous.”

“I’m not nervous,” Myka replies grasping her neck.

Tracy rolls her eyes. “Myka, you’re my sister, I’ve known you all my life. I’m pretty sure I can tell when you’re nervous about something,” she laughs.

“Ah, Tracy, do you know what you’re having?” Helena breaks in her line of questioning, glancing at Myka who smiles at her, grateful for the diversion. 

“No. Kevin and I decided we wanted to be surprised,” she laughs.

“And make it difficult on the rest of us to shop for gender-neutral clothes,” Myka complains.

“I know you don’t really mind, Myka,” Tracy says, “especially considering you spent the better part of a weekend painting the nursery for me.”

“You did?” Helena asks surprised. “You never mentioned that to me.”

“Why would I? It wasn’t anything,” she shrugs off.

“Except it was,” Tracy explains to Helena. “Kevin was supposed to paint the nursery the weekend before some of the baby furniture was to be delivered, only he was called away for work. And me, in my hormonal state, thought it was the end of the world,” Tracy laughs. “I must have cried over the phone to Myka for an hour about it. So, that Saturday morning, there she was on my doorstep, ready to paint.”

“Mom and Dad were there too,” Myka quickly points out, crossing her arms, flustered yet again by the inscrutable way Helena stares at her as though she has somehow unearthed a secret.

“Yes, but you did most of the work,” Jeannie says. “Incidentally, that was also the last time you were home for a Sunday dinner. If manual labor is what it takes to have you come home once in a while, I should have you repaint your father’s study.”

“Mom,” Myka says aggrieved. “You know I’ve just been busy.”

“You’re always busy, Myka. I just don’t like to see you so overworked that you forget to make a life. Find someone…be happy.”

Myka meets Helena’s eyes, feeling her heart beat erratically within her chest as she palms the back of her neck nervously.

Tracy watches her sister closely, notices the way she grasps her neck in her usual nervous habit. She notices something else as well. “Myka…is that…you’re wearing a ring. It looks like a wedding band. Did you get married?” she asks with wide eyes.

Myka’s eyes grow wide as she quickly pulls her hand away to glance at the yet again offending ring before she turns panicked eyes on Helena.

“Oh my god, you _are_ married,” Tracy says startled that she guessed correctly.

“Myka? Is this true?” Jeannie questions and Myka can only silently nod, not trusting her voice at the moment.

“Who?” is all Jeannie can ask.

Myka looks at Helena, uncertain whether she should say the words aloud. Helena stares back equally uncertain, allowing Myka to decide their fate. Their stares don’t go unnoticed however and Myka doesn’t have to say the words aloud at all; Tracy does it for her.

“You’re married to Helena,” Tracy laughs giddily. 

Myka, Helena and Jeannie all stare open-mouthed at Tracy who rolls her eyes at them all. “It’s so obvious in the way you two keep staring at each other,” she explains gleefully watching as her sister and Helena glance at each other embarrassed. 

“Is this true?” Jeannie asks first looking at her daughter and then at her apparently new daughter-in-law.

Myka takes a deep breath before exhaling, “Yeah, Mom, it is. Helena and I are married.”

“Oh, Myka,” Jeannie says sitting down on a chair, looking at her eldest daughter with bewilderment before shaking her head. “Myka I…” she doesn’t finish her sentence, suddenly overcome with silent tears.

And now Myka is the one bewildered. She understands that this new information of her sudden marriage to Helena is surprising, of course it is; but she didn’t expect her mother to succumb to tears of…disappointment? She’s not sure how to process this development, torn between wanting to comfort her mother and angry that she would need to. Myka looks at Tracy who looks back equally bewildered, shrugging her shoulders.

Myka meets Helena’s eyes only briefly before Helena drops her gaze away, but not before Myka sees the hurt reflected in their depths. 

Sitting down beside Helena, Myka takes Helena’s hand in hers, waiting until dark eyes look up before offering a soft reassuring smile. With Helena’s hand gripped in hers, Myka turns to face her mother, a subtle anger flashing in her usually serene green eyes. 

“Mom, I really don’t think…” but the words of anger die on the tip of her tongue when her mother interrupts her, a smile breaking out on her face, her tear-filled eyes shining.

“Oh, Myka, I’m so happy for you…for you both,” she reaches to grasp Helena’s other hand in hers to offer it a gentle squeeze.

“You’re…what?” Myka asks suddenly dazed, meeting Helena’s eyes to see her own confusion echoed there.

“This is all I ever wanted for you and Tracy, ever since you were little girls. To find someone you love that you could share a life with, someone who would make you happy. And that your someone is Helena,” Jeannie says offering another squeeze to the hand in hers as she looks at the woman beside her, “I couldn’t be happier,” she laughs, wiping tears from her eyes.

“So…you’re actually happy…that I’m married to Helena?” Myka stutters. 

Jeannie nods. “Of course I am. I’m ecstatic,” she laughs. “You two are perfect for one another, we all knew that the first time you brought Helena home with you.”

Myka gapes at her mother. “What? It wasn’t like that…we were just friends.”

“Yes, dear, but Helena is the only person you’ve ever brought home to meet us,” Jeannie points out. 

“Is this true, darling?” Helena asks, grinning, any hurt she felt a moment ago having vanished. “I’m the only one?” 

Myka wants to make a reply to refute the insinuation, but her throat is suddenly dry, realizing that of course she loved Helena even then, despite all her efforts to deny the fact. 

“It’s true,” Jeannie affirms. “The fact that Myka continued to bring you home with her over the years, well…Warren and I knew it was only a matter of time before this would happen,” she gestures between the two women, smiling at the sight of the gaze shared between the newly married couple, Myka looking bashful and Helena looking amused. 

“Though I should be angry with you both,” Jeannie continues. “First by not telling us you were finally dating and then not even to let us know you were getting married. Why, Myka?”

And now Myka truly does want to comfort her mother who looks so hurt to have missed her child’s wedding. “Mom…I’m sorry…everything just sort of happened so fast,” Myka tries to explain.

“It’s my fault, Mrs. Bering, Jeannie,” Helena quickly interrupts. “Myka and I only started officially dating a little over a month ago,” she says, remembering what she told Ms. Cho the night before. “It was so new, we just wanted some time all to ourselves…to get used to the new dynamic of our relationship. Marrying so suddenly, that was also my fault I’m afraid. I neglected to renew my work visa and was subject to deportation. Not wanting to be separated and…in love as we are… Myka and I decided to get married,” Helena finishes, squeezing Myka’s hand that still rests in her own.

“Aww, that’s so romantic,” Tracy gushes. “Where were you married and was it a nice ceremony?” she asks interested.

“We married at the courthouse,” Helena answers. Remembering Judge Miller and Ted and the soft kiss she shared with Myka, Helena smiles. “Yes, it was a very nice ceremony. Wasn’t it, darling?” she asks leaning closer to Myka. 

“Yeah,” Myka agrees a little breathlessly, feeling Helena lean into her as she too recalls the kiss they shared that night.

“Are there any pictures?” Jeannie asks hopefully.

Myka shakes her head apologetically. “We didn’t think to bring a camera, but the judge did take a few photos that he said he would send to us.”

“Oh, Myka, I wish I could have been there,” Jeannie says wistfully. “You must have made such a beautiful bride. Both of you,” she amends with a soft look at Helena.

“I assure you, Mrs. Bering, Myka looked exquisite,” Helena says softly. 

Myka rubs at her neck, feeling another blush working its way across her body as she meets Helena’s intent stare. “You were the exquisite one, Helena. You were breathtaking,” Myka says quietly and Helena can feel her breath catch in her throat at the soft way Myka looks at her.

“Oh yeah, you two are so married,” Tracy says drolly, effectively breaking the stare between the newlyweds. “Since you are married now, you’ll have to let us give you a reception…or a bridal shower,” she says excited at the thought.

“That’s really not necessary, Trace,” Myka says. “Once we get Helena’s things moved into my…our apartment, I really don’t think there’s anything we’ll need.” 

“It’s not about necessity, Myka,” Tracy rolls her eyes. “It’s a way to celebrate you both. Plus, you know, food and gifts, who can say no to that?”

Helena laughs. “When you put it that way…” she grins.

“Helena, you’re a woman…a sister,” Tracy amends with a smile, “after my own heart.”

“Actually, it’s Myka’s heart I’m after,” Helena quips earning a laugh in return from Tracy and Jeannie, Myka trying hard to regulate her breathing at Helena’s words.

Myka rises suddenly from the sofa. “I should get dressed so we can actually go baby shopping; you know, the reason you came here.” 

Myka makes a hasty exit then, ready to get away from further questions and implications. She feels a little guilty for leaving Helena alone with her mother and sister, but even the guilt diminishes when she’s able to spend a few moments quietly by herself, trying to process the fact her family not only knows now she’s married to Helena, but they support it, even expected it. She’s not sure what to do with that knowledge, even more at a loss as she considers what that will mean when she and Helena eventually annul the marriage. Myka sighs heavily at the thought.

When she returns to the living room, Myka is relieved to note that she had no reason to feel guilty for leaving Helena alone with her family. She and Tracy are talking animatedly about the nursery and how Helena will have to see it when they come to dinner.

“What dinner?” Myka asks interrupting their conversation. 

“Oh, Myka,” Helena smiles, “your mother has very graciously invited us to dinner next weekend to celebrate our recent nuptials.”

“Yeah and afterward, you’re going to stop by my house so Helena may see what the nursery looks like,” Tracy says happily.

“Great,” Myka smiles halfheartedly, knowing dinner with her family, _all_ of her family, will certainly mean more questions. “Ready to go?” she asks her sister and mother who both nod and rise from their seats.

“Enjoy your time together,” Helena tells them.

“If you need me for anything, call me,” Myka tells her.

“You’ll only be gone a few hours, Myka, I’ll be fine,” Helena says.

“Need I remind you what happened yesterday?” she says giving Helena a pointed look, receiving a dramatic eye roll in response.

“Yes, darling. I promise, I won’t take another bath without your assistance,” she smirks, anticipating the reaction her statement will cause. She’s not disappointed when Myka blushes and the other Bering women look on wide-eyed. 

“Can we leave now?” Myka pleads, hoping her blush goes unnoticed by her family.

“Yes, let’s get going girls,” Jeannie speaks moving towards the door followed closely by Tracy.

“Myka, I believe you’ve forgotten something,” Helena cheerily calls after her.

Myka narrows her eyes at the smirk on Helena’s perfect lips and the mischievous glint in those dark eyes. “What?” she asks cautiously. 

Helena gives an exaggerated roll of her eyes. “Really, darling, only married two days and you’re already forgetting to kiss me goodbye.”

“What?” Myka gasps startled as her mother and sister laugh happily.

“Yeah, Myka, go give your wife a kiss,” Tracy encourages, giving Myka a gentle push in Helena’s direction.

Myka turns to glare at her. “Ah, would you both mind waiting in the hall for just a moment while I say goodbye to Helena?”

“Aww, don’t be shy, Myka,” Tracy teases. “We’re all family now.”

“Yes, we are,” Helena readily agrees, still smirking.

Myka tilts her head back and sighs, contemplating her options. Convince her family to step outside into the hall so she can pretend to kiss Helena or actually kiss Helena to convince her family that they are a couple.

Helena is still smirking when Myka turns to look at her but it falters as Myka moves away from the door to stand near Helena still seated on the sofa. There is no hint of a smirk on Helena’s lips when Myka leans down, her hand cupping Helena’s cheek in her palm. There is only a sharp intake of breath when Myka leans forward to place a soft kiss at the corner of Helena’s mouth, a mere promise of a kiss.

“Goodbye, Helena,” Myka whispers.

Myka is nearly at the door to leave with her family before Helena finds her voice again. “Hurry home, darling,” she says, her heart fluttering at the sight of Myka’s answering smile before she pulls the door closed behind her.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry again for the delay in updating.

“I can’t believe you do your grocery shopping at seven-thirty in the morning. A ridiculous time of day; on a Sunday! Normal people take advantage of a quiet Sunday morning by staying in bed.”

“You were the one who insisted on coming with me,” Myka says amused at Helena’s grumblings. “You could have stayed in bed longer.”

“Yes, but without you curled around me, staying in bed doesn’t hold so much appeal,” Helena returns coyly.

“Again, I’m sorry about that,” Myka says pushing the cart down an aisle, sternly avoiding Helena’s gaze. “I don’t know why…my proclivity to cuddle as you put it, keeps happening,” she says, remembering the way she woke up for the second time in as many mornings with her arms wrapped snugly around Helena. Even now the remembrance of her body flush with Helena’s, legs entwined makes her heart beat erratically. 

“I’m not complaining, darling, far from it, in fact.”

“What?” Myka stops pushing the cart to look at Helena startled.

“Well, you do keep me warm after all,” she smirks.

Myka releases a breath as she resumes pushing the cart. “Glad I can be of some use.”

“Mmm,” Helena hums in response watching as Myka pulls a small piece of paper from her bag that Helena recognizes as the grocery list that was stuck to the fridge in Myka’s kitchen. “May I have a look?”

“Sure,” Myka responds, handing over the list as she continues down the aisle, grabbing a bag of pasta from a shelf to place in the cart.

Helena studies the list for a few moments then grins. “You organize your grocery list based on the layout of the store?” she asks amused.

“Yeah, it’s logical,” Myka defends. “Saves time by not wandering around the store, which you should appreciate given that it will save you being on your feet any longer than you have to be. And I shop every week at the same time so that I’m sure to have food to eat when you call to tell me you forgot to do any grocery shopping and ask to come over for dinner,” she says taking the list from Helena’s hand. 

“Yes, well, that is no longer a concern as I will be having dinner with you every night from this point forward indefinitely it would seem,” Helena returns. “And now that we will be living together, it’s only fair that I share in the grocery shopping duties and cooking.”

“Really? You’ll come with me every Sunday morning to do the grocery shopping?” Myka asks skeptically.

“Yes. If seven-thirty on Sunday morning is your preferred shopping hour, then so be it. I will be at your side,” Helena speaks resolutely, taking the cart from Myka to push down the aisle, missing the amused smile that breaks out on Myka’s features as she watches Helena fondly. “Now, where is the produce section? I need carrots to go in the Shepard’s Pie.”

“You’re cooking tonight? Are you sure you feel up to it?”

“It doesn’t take very long to prepare. The oven does most of the labor. Besides, with you helping me, it will take no time at all.”

“Smooth, Wells. Way to coerce me into cooking too,” Myka pretends to be annoyed. 

“It’s Bering-Wells now, darling,” Helena says abruptly coming to a halt to place a quick, chaste kiss to Myka’s cheek, smiling at the stunned expression that is her reward. “And I’d hardly consider it a coercion when I know you’re more than willing to assist me,” she grins before turning back to the cart and moving steadily down the aisle, leaving Myka to follow unsteadily after her.

Myka checks her list again as they continue through the store. “I need another toothbrush to replace the one I gave to you,” she says directing Helena down another aisle.

“Which reminds me that I really should go back to my place today if for no other reason than to gather my own toiletries and some clothing so I have something decent to wear to work tomorrow.”

“Sure, I’ll drive you over whenever you’re ready,” Myka agrees.

“Anything else left on your list?” Helena asks a hand at her back rubbing soothing patterns.

Myka looks over it again. “No, I think we got everything. Probably good timing too,” she says noticing the way Helena rubs her back. “Is the pain increasing?”

“A little,” Helena concedes. “But what about something for dessert?”

“You know I don’t eat sugar.”

“Mmm, your Twizzlers being the exception, of course,” she says with raised eyebrows, glancing at the candy inside the cart.

“Yeah except those,” Myka smiles. “But what would you like? Ice cream?” she guesses.

“I do have a craving for something sweet and ice cream is appealing.”

Myka pushes the cart to the ice cream aisle, taking in all the varieties. “What will it be then?”

Helena takes a moment looking over the choices. “One can never go wrong with a classic.”

Myka laughs. “Chocolate ice cream for the lady it is,” she says ducking into the freezer to grab a carton. 

“Oh, Myka, they have your favorite as well, butter pecan. Perhaps you’ll make one more exception to sugar?” she entices. 

Myka looks at Helena’s smiling face and smiles back. “Why not?” she says before grabbing another carton of ice cream.

***

A suitcase lies open on the bed, Helena slowly filling it with the clothing Myka hands to her from the closet.

“I can sell my sofa, there’s no love lost there, but I’ll have to bring over my bookshelves and my desk of course.”

Myka absently nods in agreement, mentally trying to configure how Helena’s belongings will fit in her two-bedroom apartment.

“I’ll sell my bed but perhaps there’s room in your bedroom for the television?” Helena asks, breaking Myka’s thoughts.

“Wait, sell your bed? Why?” Myka asks startled. 

“Myka, your apartment simply isn’t big enough to accommodate a second bedroom.”

“I can clear out my office and you can have the second bedroom. I’ll move my desk and bookshelves to…to…”

“And you see the problem now, don’t you? If we were to move my bed into that bedroom, where will we put both our desks and bookshelves?”

Myka frowns at the thought, knowing Helena is right and there isn’t room to accommodate everything. 

“So you’ll sleep…with me…all the time?” Myka asks trying to clarify, her voice rising slightly. 

“Well we’ve managed well enough so far. And…since we are married…and trying to convince the government of that fact, yes it seems only logical for me to share your bedroom. But if you’re uncomfortable with that…” Helena says looking at Myka’s panic stricken face. 

“No, no, it’s fine,” Myka waves a hand in dismissal, her voice still sounding odd to her ears. “It makes sense, especially considering Abigail mentioned she could come around at any time. Having two bedrooms would only raise suspicion.”

“Yes. Think of it as a slumber party…just one that lasts for weeks, possibly months,” Helena quips. 

“A slumber party? Really?” Myka says shaking her head amused. “Granted I don’t have much experience with slumber parties, but don’t they usually entail sleeping on the floor in sleeping bags?”

“Fine. Not a slumber party at all,” Helena concedes. “Still, it will be fine, Myka.”

“Yeah, fine,” Myka exhales a breath. 

***

That night, Myka sits in bed reading as Helena prepares for bed. Her eyes lift involuntarily from the pages of her book periodically to watch Helena cross the room for one thing or another, wearing only the nightly camisole and sleep shorts and Myka wonders again how anyone can be so beautiful as Helena is, wearing her beauty so effortlessly and radiantly. Myka is also pleased to note Helena moves about with much more ease than the past two days. Her back has improved considerably, though her movements are still careful and deliberate.

Helena comes to the bed and sits down, rubbing lotion onto her hands before moving under the covers. The sweet scent of the lotion on Helena’s skin makes Myka’s stomach coil pleasantly and she can’t help smiling to herself as Helena adjusts the pillows behind her back before taking up her own book to read. Myka is just so…happy in this moment. To have Helena beside her this way, comfortably sharing a bed, reading together, it’s more than she ever imagined would happen, what she never realized she wanted until now.

Helena tries to concentrate on her book but she is finding the task difficult to do with Myka so near her offering up such a pleasant distraction. For Myka is a vision wearing those dark-rimmed reading glasses that look so becoming on her. Brunette curls brush against her bare shoulders with every turn of a page and the thin white camisole she wears strains deliciously across her ample chest. Helena barely manages to contain a moan at the thought of Myka’s breasts and knows she is entering dangerous territory if she continues along this train of thought.

With a defeated sigh, Helena places her book back on the nightstand, knowing she won’t comprehend anything she reads tonight, Myka’s presence too much of a distraction. Instead she carefully shuffles under the covers, startling when her foot accidentally brushes against Myka’s calf. 

Myka releases a sharp intake of breath at the contact and meets Helena’s amused eyes. “Your feet are cold,” she accuses with a laugh, hoping to brush aside the sudden heat she feels in her stomach at the all too brief touch.

“I did just get into bed. I haven’t had time to warm up properly,” Helena defends. “However, come tomorrow morning, no doubt you won’t have any complaints of cold feet when I find you wrapped around me again,” she smirks.

Heat suffuses Myka’s cheeks. “Again with the teasing,” she complains. “This morning you said you didn’t mind…that I keep you warm.”

“I don’t mind and you do keep me warm,” Helena says laying a reassuring hand along Myka’s arm before removing it to adjust her pillow.

Myka smiles fondly at her. “You seemed to get around easier today. Are you feeling better?” 

“I am.”

“I’m glad,” Myka says sincerely, watching Helena stifle a yawn. “Are you tired?”

“A little.”

“I’m sorry,” Myka says placing a bookmark between pages. “I can turn off the light,” she says setting her book on her nightstand and reaching for the light.

“No wait,” Helena says taking Myka’s hand to stop her. Myka turns expectant eyes on her. “Perhaps we can talk a little before sleep?”

“Okay?” 

Helena gently pulls on Myka’s arm to silently communicate she wants her to lie down. Myka adjusts her pillow and slowly shuffles down under the covers, linking her fingers across her stomach in a relaxed position. 

Helena remains quiet for several minutes and Myka begins to feel uneasy under her stare. “Helena?” Myka turns to look at the woman beside her. Helena is turned on her side, a hand under her pillow, her dark eyes intent on Myka, almost as if searching for the answer to some unasked question.

The question does come then. “Why…” Helena starts and falters. “Why don’t you have much experience with slumber parties?”

Myka looks away, biting her lip recalling their earlier conversation that afternoon. Trust Helena to pick up on that small detail. “It’s not really a secret; I didn’t have many friends growing up. Tracy was the popular one. Any experience I may have had with slumber parties was through her.”

Several silent moments go by, Myka wondering if Helena has dropped off to sleep but doesn’t dare look for fear she may see pity reflected in Helena’s eyes. 

“Those children you knew didn’t know what they were missing in having you for a friend, Myka,” Helena says quietly. 

“Oh, I’m pretty sure they did,” Myka laughs self-consciously. 

“I assure you they didn’t,” Helena speaks, her voice so adamant, Myka can’t help but look at her to see the sincerity reflected in those penetrating eyes.

Warmth spreads throughout Myka’s chest and her lips tug into a crooked smile at the sight. “You mean more to me than any number of friends I might have had as a kid, Helena,” Myka says softly.

“Well, at the risk of sounding egotistical, I am one of a kind,” Helena smirks.

“You certainly are,” Myka agrees with a smile, watching as Helena’s eyes begin to flutter closed. 

“Myka?” Helena sighs tiredly. 

“Yeah?”

“I’m cold.”

“I’ll get another blanket,” Myka says intending to get up but before she has a chance, Helena is moving forward, resting her head on Myka’s shoulder and wrapping an arm around her abdomen that elicits a startled gasp from Myka’s lips. 

“Is this alright?” Helena asks sleepily.

“Yeah…sure,” Myka lets out a breath as she reaches an arm to curl around Helena. 

“We’ll end up in each other’s arms in the morning anyway…simply skipping to the inevitable,” Helena mumbles into her shoulder before sleep overtakes her.

Myka can’t argue with that logic, nor does she want to with Helena soft and warm against her. Turning off the light, Myka pulls Helena closer to her, sighing with contentment before at last closing her eyes to follow Helena into slumber. 

***

Myka frowns as she notices Helena walking towards the elevators, a hand at her back as if to soothe the pain. 

“You’re sure you want to work today?” Myka asks not for the first time that morning.

“Yes, Myka. I’m perfectly all right. Besides, I don’t want Artie getting too comfortable in my absence.”

“Fine, but if you feel unwell at any time…”

“I’ll be sure to let you know so you may whisk me away, driving me to the apartment, feed me and put me to bed,” Helena says drily.

“I’m serious, Helena,” Myka chastises.

“So am I. I’m fine, Myka, truly. A little discomfort perhaps, but I’ll manage.”

“Here, let me take your bag at least,” Myka says taking the article from Helena to place over her own shoulder. 

“Why Miss Bering, carrying my books to class? How chivalrous of you,” Helena quips. “Are we going steady now?” she grins as they step into the elevator.

Before Myka can make a reply, they both hear a shout, “Hold the elevator!” 

Myka holds the door as a tall, attractive man steps inside. “Thanks….Myka, hi!” 

“Hi Sam,” Myka smiles. “Running late today?”

“You could say that,” he laughs. “Just had to be like you the other day when you were late I guess.”

“I think I still have you beat,” Myka says. Catching a glance at Helena, she notices the way she grasps the chain she wears around her neck. A chain Myka knows holds a wedding ring and thinking of the chain she also wears carrying a matching ring, she smiles. “Sam, this is Helena, my friend and coworker,” she introduces.

‘And wife,’ is what Helena wants to blurt out but manages to only smile instead, taking Sam’s outstretched hand to shake.

“Helena, it’s nice to meet you,” he says before his eyes shift their focus back to Myka. “You’re lucky to have Myka for a friend.”

“I’m extremely fortunate indeed,” Helena adamantly agrees glancing at Myka who smiles softly at her. “But how do you two happen to know each other?” she asks curiously. 

“We frequently share an elevator on the way to the office,” Myka explains.

“Elevator rides and a coffee date,” Sam reminds her with a smile.

“That’s right there was one coffee date, a few weeks ago,” she amends with a nod.

“Too long ago,” Sam says.

Thankfully before he can say another word that might entail asking Myka for another coffee date, the elevator doors chime open and Helena practically pulls Myka off the car with her.

“Bye, Sam,” Myka manages to say before Helena is further leading her down the hall to their office. “It appears your morning caffeine has kicked in with this sudden burst of energy,” Myka looks at her quizzically.

“Something kicked in, yes,” Helena agrees, not wanting to give name to the sudden emotion rising in her. 

Myka opens the door to the small publishing office and they are both immediately bombarded with questions. 

“HG! How’s it going, grandma?” Pete asks with a snicker. A snicker that dies the moment Helena fixes him with an icy glare that may be an after effect of her encounter in the elevator, witnessing the way Sam looked at Myka. 

Pete audibly swallows under her glare and pulls Claudia in front of him to huddle behind her.

“Dude, what the frak? If HG is going to shoot daggers at you I don’t want to be in the line of fire,” she complains shaking off his hold. 

“Pete knows HG wouldn’t hurt you,” Steve says.

“Exactly! HG loves you, Claud. She won’t go through you to get to me,” Pete says looking at HG slightly terrified.

“Wouldn’t I? This morning I think it would be to your benefit, Pete not to test me.”

“Ah, Pete, I suggest if you want to remain the proud owner of essential body parts that will help you become a father sometime in the future, then don’t insult Helena right now…or you know…ever,” Myka helpfully offers.

“How are you really, HG?” Leena asks concerned.

“Tolerably well. There is still some pain but it’s manageable, thank you for asking, Leena.” 

“Was there a staff meeting called I wasn’t aware of?” Artie barks from his office doorway.

“Artie, lovely to see you as always,” Helena quips. “I was just being welcomed back by those who care. Even Pete has expressed his concern for my well-being in his own delightful way,” she says smirking with satisfaction at the way Pete steps behind a chair in an attempt for protection.

“HG,” Artie begins to say something sarcastic but stops abruptly at the pleading stares of both Myka and Leena. “I…I trust you’re feeling better then?”

“Considerably, yes,” she replies with a quirk of a brow at his unusual concerned inquiry.

“Good. Now that everyone has been briefed on the status of HG’s health issues, there’s work to get back to,” he says turning on his heel leaving the small group to disperse.

“Thank you for carrying my bag, Myka,” Helena says taking the bag from her and moving towards her office.

“If you need anything…” Myka calls after her, frowning as Helena only waves a hand before disappearing inside her office.

***

Myka is reading in bed again. Reading may not be entirely accurate. More accurately she is watching Helena get ready for bed over the pages of her book again. Watching Helena’s lithe form as she hangs her clothes in the closet where Myka made room for them before crossing the room to pull back the covers on her side of the bed.

Myka gives up all pretense of reading now, setting her book in her lap.

“You’ve been awfully quiet all evening.”

“Have I? Just tired I suppose,” Helena answers cryptically.

“I hardly saw you at work; your door was mostly closed and I missed you at lunch.”

“I had a great deal of work to attend to, Myka,” Helena says as she begins to massage lotion onto her hands.

“If something is bothering you…you know you can tell me, right?” Myka asks gently.

Helena knows Myka means well, but the truth of what is bothering her, the way Sam spoke to Myka, gazed at her with something of longing, is not something Helena can put words to for herself, let alone Myka.

“Helena?” Myka gently prods.

“I’m just tired. And I certainly didn’t appreciate Pete’s grandma remark this morning, though I must concede, there may be some truth to it,” she sighs.

“You’re not old, Helena, you’re in pain. There’s a difference.”

“At the moment, I fail to see it. I think I’ll make an appointment later this week and have my back massaged. Perhaps that will help.”

Myka contemplates Helena’s words, silently watching as Helena tries to rub at her lower back, attempting to massage the pain.

“I could massage your back…if you want,” she offers.

Helena looks at her surprised. “Really?”

“Yeah, I mean, why not? We can try it and see. If it doesn’t work, you can always make that appointment.”

“Alright,” Helena says moving to lie down on her stomach.

Myka scoots off the bed to move to Helena’s side and tentatively touches Helena’s lower back over her camisole. “Tell me if I hurt you okay?”

“Mmm,” is all the answer Myka receives as she moves her fingertips over Helena’s back, adding pressure to her touch that elicits a moan of pleasure from Helena. Myka continues her massage, kneading Helena’s back with varying degrees of pressure.

“Is this alright?” Myka asks as she continues her movement.

“Heavenly,” is the murmured response. 

Several silent moments go by, Myka develops a rhythm to her touch and is so concentrated on her efforts that she’s startled when Helena speaks up.

“Sam seems like a nice…fellow,” she says haltingly. “Very attractive.” 

“Sam?” Myka asks surprised by the topic.

“Yes. You both seemed quite chummy this morning in the elevator.”

Myka laughs at that. “Sam is nice, at least from what little I know of him.”

“He mentioned you had a coffee date.”

“One fifteen minute break spent in the building’s crowded cafeteria where we discussed our careers; I’d hardly call it a date,” Myka says adding a little more pressure to her touch, the sound of Helena’s appreciative moan causing her stomach to flutter and jump. 

“He fancies you, you know.”

Myka briefly stops massaging, startled at the statement. “I don’t know about that…”

“I do. The way he looked at you, Myka…he’s interested in you.”

“Well, it really doesn’t matter,” Myka says beginning to massage Helena’s back again.

“Why not?”

‘Because he’s not you,’ are the words Myka wants to say. “Because I’m not interested in him that way,” she does say. 

Helena feels relief at the words. “Not to mention you being married to me dampens any kind of romantic attachment you might form with another,” she says wryly.

“Yeah, there is that too,” Myka laughs.

Helena has made light of their situation but now she sobers at the thought of keeping Myka from anyone she does desire. “I am sorry, Myka, that I’ve entangled you in my mess as it were….”

“Helena,” Myka says firmly, “we’ve been over this. I wouldn’t have married you if I didn’t want to so stop feeling sorry about this because I’m not.” 

“Righty-ho then,” Helena smiles.

***

Myka stands at the stove, stirring the sauce, removing the spoon for a quick taste test. Satisfied with the result she puts the burner onto a simmer before checking her watch. She expected Helena to be home already and can’t help worrying just a little that she isn’t home yet. Trying to push aside any anxiety, she sets the table for dinner. Two plates, two glasses, two sets of silverware, Myka smiles to herself at the sight. She hasn’t eaten alone all week. The novelty of that leaves her with a feeling that defies description. Myka has never minded eating alone before. Her thoughts and the occasional TV watching were always enough company for her. But now, having shared dinner with Helena every night this week, it’s difficult to imagine going back to eating alone. The fact that she won’t be eating alone for some time keeps a soft smile on her lips. 

As she waits for Helena to arrive, she sorts through the mail. It’s mostly the usual bills and useless catalogs, but there is also a small, thick envelope with a return address from the county courthouse. Myka’s interest is piqued, especially since the envelope is addressed to Myka & Helena Bering-Wells. She brushes a thumb over the combined name; another smile forming to realize it’s the first time since their marriage to see the shared name in print. Deciding the envelope should be opened with Helena, Myka carefully places it at Helena’s place at the table and smiles yet again at that thought. Helena has a place at her table now. 

Returning to the kitchen, Myka pulls the garlic bread from the oven and sets it on the counter to let it cool. She begins to mix a salad, hoping the work will take her mind off the fact Helena still hasn’t arrived home. She just finishes mixing the salad and places it on the table when she hears a key turn in the lock and sighs with relief when Helena steps through the door. 

“Hey you,” Myka calls from the kitchen where she begins slicing the bread. “I was beginning to get worried you wouldn’t show.”

“Yes, I apologize for the delay. Last minute details to wrap up at the office, you know how that is,” Helena says removing her coat and satchel.

“Well you’re just in time for dinner.”

“It smells heavenly,” Helena says stepping into the kitchen to see Myka dishing spaghetti onto plates. “I’m sorry I wasn’t home sooner to help.”

Myka waves her off without looking up from her task. “Spaghetti is one meal even I can’t mess up,” she laughs.

“Nonsense, you’re a good cook, Myka.”

“I have my specialties, that’s all and spaghetti happens to be one of them. It’s no Shepard’s Pie after all.”

“Which happens to be one of my few specialties,” Helena says. “Still, I’m sorry I’m late.”

“I’m just glad you’re home now,” Myka says finally looking up to see Helena leaning against the counter holding a bouquet of pink, red and white roses in her arms. Myka’s heart speeds up at the sight. “What…what’s all this?” she stutters gesturing to the bouquet, hoping Helena doesn’t hear the slight waver in her voice.

“It occurred to me on the way home that today marks our one week anniversary. And it also occurred to me that we didn’t have any flowers at our wedding. An oversight on my part that I’m attempting to rectify now.”

“Helena, you didn’t have to get flowers,” Myka says softly.

“Oh, well…it’s nothing really,” Helena attempts to deflect the brief hurt she feels by Myka’s less than enthusiastic reaction. “I just thought they might be a way of expressing my unwavering gratitude to you…for all you’ve done for me this week…not the least of which was marrying me.”

Helena is rambling, they both know it, but Myka also notices the way Helena looks away from her and realizes she’s made a misstep somewhere to cause Helena’s rambling. She steps forward then, and Helena’s dark eyes look up meet hers. 

“They’re beautiful, Helena,” Myka says sincerely, taking the bouquet from Helena, their fingers brushing in the process. “Thank you.”

The smile that lights Helena’s face then spurs an unquenchable desire in Myka to step closer to kiss her. It’s a desire that Myka knows must remain unfulfilled though, so she quickly turns away. “They’re perfect for the table setting,” she says instead, opening a cupboard to search for a vase to place them in.

“I’m glad you like them,” Helena says watching Myka fill the vase with water and begin arranging the roses. “Is there anything left I can do to help with dinner?”

“I was thinking we’d have wine with dinner tonight, if you’d like. There should be a bottle in the fridge.”

Helena finds the bottle of wine easily enough and begins filling their glasses. Noticing the envelope at her place, Helena picks it up for inspection. “Myka, what is this?” she asks as Myka sets down their plates of steaming pasta.

“I’m not sure. It came in the mail today and since it’s addressed to both of us, I thought we should open it together.”

Helena uses a fingernail to break the seal and open the envelope removing the contents. “It appears to be our marriage certificate.”

“Already? That was good timing,” Myka laughs. 

“Indeed. There’s also a note here from Ted. ‘Best wishes in your new life together.’”

“That’s sweet,” Myka says looking over the note Helena hands to her.

“There’s something else as well.”

“What?”

“Photographs of the ceremony,” Helena says moving beside Myka to share them.

“Oh,” Myka sucks in a breath as she views the first photograph that happens to be of their kiss. Myka is transported to that moment exactly a week ago when the judge pronounced them married leading to the kiss. She remembers how panicked she felt at that second and how in the next moment, Helena touched her cheek to guide her into a soft, sweet kiss. “Well that’s…nice,” she manages to choke out.

“It is,” Helena agrees and then she is shuffling through the other two pictures. One shows them with their arms around each other, both looking at the camera a little dazed perhaps, but also looking content. The other is much more intimate, more intimate than the photograph of the kiss even. It was taken just after the kiss, Myka remembers. She had been startled by the sound of the camera snapping a photograph that she had broken the kiss to stare instead into Helena’s eyes. It was the moment she realized she was in love with Helena.

Myka carefully takes the photograph from Helena’s hands, biting her lip, wondering if the look on her face in that picture reveals the secret she is trying so hard to conceal. She can feel Helena staring at her now but doesn’t dare look up. 

“Judge Miller was quite a character, wasn’t he?” Myka says lightly as she takes her seat at the table, setting the picture down at her side. 

“He was indeed,” Helena manages a soft chuckle. “But he got the job done, and takes impressive photographs as well,” she replies sitting down at the table.

“Yeah,” Myka agrees with a last glance at the intimate photo before turning it over and focusing her attention instead to dinner. Myka raises her wine glass. “Well, here’s to…”

“Us,” Helena rushes to say raising her own glass. “Here’s to us making it through our first week as newlyweds. Happy anniversary, darling,” she says clinking her glass against Myka’s.

“Happy anniversary,” Myka echoes before taking a long sip of her wine, watching as Helena does the same. Her hand trembles slightly when she returns the glass to the table and she mentally tells herself to take a deep breath. It’s just dinner with Helena the way she’s shared dinner with her so many times before.

Despite the nervous beginning, dinner passes by companionably, the conversation of topics drifting between work matters to their plans for the weekend to continue packing up Helena’s apartment.

They’re lingering over their second glass of wine. Myka leans forward to absentmindedly stroke the petal of a rose, Helena watching her intently.

“Thank you again for the roses, Helena. They really are lovely,” Myka speaks lowly.

“They’re my way of thanking you, Myka,” Helena responds quietly. “I’m truly grateful for all you’ve done this past week and continue to do.”

“I’m not so sure you’re going to feel so grateful when we have dinner at my family’s this weekend.”

“Whatever do you mean? Your family is delightful,” Helena smirks.

Any response Myka intended to make dies on her lips at the sound of a knock on the door.

“Expecting company?” Helena asks.

“No. You?”

Helena shakes her head.

“Maybe it’s Pete?” Myka says hopefully.

“For once, I happily wish it were,” Helena says demurely as both she and Myka rise from the table; Myka to clear their dishes and Helena to answer the door.

“Abigail, how lovely to see you again,” Myka hears Helena speak to their guest and though she expected it would be Abigail from the moment the knock came, Myka still startles when that expectation is confirmed, dropping the dishes into the sink with a loud clatter.

“Myka, are you alright?” Helena asks concerned rushing towards the kitchen with Abigail on her heels.

“Fine,” Myka spins towards the two women. The dishes just slipped from my hands. You know how clumsy I can be sometimes,” she laughs nervously, brushing her thumb across her wedding ring making sure of its presence.

“Yes I know,” Helena smiles fondly, the sight immediately putting Myka at ease. Helena holds her hand out for Myka to take hold of, and Myka does so, relieved to notice Helena is wearing her ring also. It’s become routine to wear their rings on chains around their necks during working hours so the rings are hidden but close and then slip the rings on fingers when they’re home, just for such an occasion as this one.

“I’m sorry if I’ve interrupted your dinner,” Abigail apologizes, taking notice of the glasses of wine and roses on the table.

“You didn’t interrupt at all. Myka and I have already finished dinner. We were just conversing as we enjoyed the rest of our wine. Would you care for a glass?”

“Thank you, no,” Abigail responds.

“Would you like a glass of water instead?” Myka asks.

Abigail nods her assent. “Water would be great, thank you.”

“I suspect you’re here to ask further questions,” Helena says brightly. “Would you prefer to sit in the living room or at the table?”

“The table will be fine,” Abigail answers, pulling out a chair for herself and gathering a notepad and pen from her satchel.

Myka returns with the water for Abigail and sits down beside Helena.

“Thank you for the water, Myka,” Abigail says taking a sip, noticing the way Helena takes Myka’s hand over the tabletop, her thumb grazing Myka’s knuckles tenderly and the soft smile Myka gives her in return.

“It’s been a week since you were married, is that right?” Abigail asks looking at the roses on the table.

“Yes,” Helena answers. “In fact, Myka and I were surprised to receive our wedding certificate in the mail today,” she says pushing the document towards Abigail who takes a moment to inspect it. “The clerk was also kind enough to provide us with a few candid photos of the occasion,” she says passing those along as well.

“You both make beautiful brides,” Abigail remarks as she studies the photos. “It’s a shame there are only these few photos to commemorate the occasion. But I must say they are quite compelling,” she says taking notice of not only the photo of the kiss but also the photo that captured the shared look between the two women. A look that appears very much like reverence, if not love. 

“Myka and I don’t need any photographs to prove our love for each other. We know it instinctively. Still, I’m grateful we have these, if for no other reason than to share with Myka’s family this weekend. They were sorry to miss the ceremony.”

“Then you’ve shared the news with your family?” Abigail directs her question to Myka.

“Yeah, my mom and sister came by last Saturday. Helena and I shared the news with them then. They were…ecstatic,” she says recalling the memory of that morning and the surprise and relief she had felt at their reaction. 

“And they weren’t too upset over missing the ceremony?”

“My mom said she wished she could have seen us married,” Myka admits, “but when Helena explained the circumstances for why we married so quickly, she understood.”

“Tracy, my new sister-in-law, is threatening to throw us a bridal shower. If she has her way, it will no doubt be some elaborate affair and more than make up for missing the wedding,” Helena laughs, offering Myka’s hand a comforting squeeze. 

“I’m glad to hear your family has taken the news so well, Myka,” Abigail responds. “It’s always so much more pleasant for all concerned when families are supportive.”

“Yeah I guess so,” Myka agrees, absently thinking of her father. Her mother told her she would break the news to him of the marriage and now five days later, she has yet to hear from him.

“And what about your brother, Helena, have you told him the news?”

“Not yet. I’ve…we’ve been busy this week with work and slowly packing up my apartment, as evidenced by all the boxes scattered around here,” she gestures to the room. “But I have no doubt Charles will be thrilled with the news. He was quite taken with Myka when he came for a visit.” 

Helena doesn’t mention the way Charles flirted incessantly with Myka to such a degree that Helena took it upon herself to scold him about it, only to have him, with a devilish smirk, accuse her of being jealous. “Sister dear, you’ve got it bad for that one,” he told her. Helena had sputtered her denial citing she and Myka were only very good friends but Charles irritatingly continued to smirk, disbelieving her explanation. Thankfully though he had taken her request to heart and ceased his flirting, as much as he could, being Charles.

“Why is important to you that our family know of our marriage?” Myka asks. “Will you be interviewing them?” she asks troubled at the thought. 

“Not necessarily,” Abigail tries to assure. “In some cases, it is necessary to interview family, friends, sometimes even coworkers, but that is usually for cases that show substantial evidence that the marriage is a fraud. At this point, I’m not anticipating an interview with your family or friends will be necessary, but that could change based on my assessment of your interactions during my visitations.”

“How long exactly will you be assessing us?” Helena asks.

“That again depends on both of you. Some cases have been open as long as two years.”

Myka and Helena glance at one another, each seeing the worry etched across the other’s face and Abigail sees it too. 

“Personally, my cases have all wrapped up in a matter of months, sometimes weeks even. There are signs that tell if a couple is truly in love or if they’re not,” Abigail states.

“And what is your feeling regarding Myka and I?”

Abigail glances at their joined hands and attentive expressions. “The jury is still out on you two,” she smiles kindly. “But think of it this way, I’m only here to verify that your declaration of love for each other is truthful. The more I interact with you, the sooner I can make that determination and leave you to live your life of marital bliss.”

“That would be ideal,” Helena sighs.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m so sorry for the long delay in updating this story. It wasn’t my intention to have it go so long, but well, writing is difficult. I just want to say thank you to all of you who have continued to show an interest in this story, thank you to those who left comments and messages even when months had gone by with no update. To know you were still interested was a huge encouragement. I have every intention of finishing this story – it just may take longer than we all would like. Thanks again for reading.

Marital bliss Abigail had said. Helena isn’t so sure spending hours packing boxes with various items of her apartment can be construed as such. And yet, Myka is with her to help, looking beautiful even in a simple t-shirt and ragged jeans, her hair loosely tied into a ponytail as she carefully removes books from shelves to place in boxes. 

“Helena? What is this?” Myka asks holding up a pile of papers, tied with twine, dog-eared and riddled with notes. 

Viewing the object in Myka’s hands, Helena’s eyes widen and she takes a step forward, attempting to take the papers from Myka but she isn’t given the chance when Myka takes a corresponding step backward, a grin forming on her face as she reads the title page. “‘Stargazers: by Helena G. Wells’. You wrote a novel?” she asks stunned. “How did I not know about this?”

Helena tucks a strand of hair behind her ear before folding her arms across her chest. “Because I wrote it many years ago. Even attempted to have it published, if you can imagine,” she says with a strained laugh.

“What happened?” Myka asks gently though she’s pretty sure she knows the answer.

“No one wanted to publish it. Not that I can blame them, it’s pure drivel.”

“I highly doubt that.”

“You shouldn’t,” Helena responds, moving on to pack another box.

“May I read it?” Myka asks quietly.

Helena looks up surprised. “I don’t know why you’d want to.”

“Because you wrote it,” Myka answers as if it should be obvious. 

Helena shrugs, trying to settle the rising flutter in her stomach at the thought of Myka reading words she wrote years ago, not sure whether the sensation is built on nerves of anxiety or anticipation. Likely both. She is torn between wanting, needing to let Myka see this part of her and also terrified. “You may if you like, but I’m afraid it will only be a waste of your time,” she warns.

“It won’t be a waste of my time, Helena,” Myka smiles, holding the pages reverently in her hands, looking as if she’d love nothing more than to sit down and devour it on the spot. Instead, she places it carefully in a box on top where she can easily pick it up once they return home. 

Helena clears her throat from the rising emotion and turns away to look about the disarrayed apartment. “I don’t know how I’ve managed to accrue so many items in my three years here,” she shakes her head with an air of defeat at the work still left to do.

Myka laughs. “You’re human, it’s what we apparently do, collect things to fill up spaces. It really isn’t too bad,” she says looking around the room. “Most of your things are books, easy to pack up and move.”

“And the bookshelves to hold them?”

“Those won’t be as easy,” she concedes, running a hand along her brow. 

“I can’t possibly attempt to move them,” Helena bemoans.

“I wouldn’t expect you to.”

“And I don’t want you to move them either, Myka,” Helena says sternly, knowing the taller woman is contemplating just that.

“We’ll hire movers then,” Myka answers resolutely. “I hate to think of the expense of that though, especially knowing Pete would help us move at the low cost of a couple pizzas.”

“And cookies,” Helena adds with a smile.

“And cookies.” Myka agrees, carefully arranging another stack of books inside a box to set by the door.

“Which leads me to ask, what should we tell Pete and the others about our new living arrangement, should they happen to discover it?”

Myka sighs picking up a small crystal apple being used as a bookend and stares at it thoughtfully, biting her lip as she contemplates the question. “I haven’t exactly figured out what we’ll tell Pete and the rest yet. Because even if I can come up with some excuse why we’re sharing an apartment, I haven’t been able to come up with a reason for sharing a bed,” she laughs nervously, diverting her eyes from Helena’s astute gaze, choosing instead to focus her attention on carefully wrapping the apple in tissue paper. 

“Perhaps we should just tell them all we are married,” Helena suggests causing Myka to look up from her task in surprise.

“What?”

“We’ve already created one lie. I just think it will be easier sticking to that one rather than trying to create a separate lie for our friends and coworkers.”

“And you think they’ll just go along with that and believe we got married so suddenly after what, secretly dating?” Myka huffs. 

“Why not? Your family did,” Helena points out.

“Helena, we hardly see my family. We see Pete and Leena and the rest of them five days a week, sometimes more. They know us.”

“I’m not saying they won’t be a little surprised by our sudden marriage, but they’re our friends, so I’d imagine once they get over the initial shock, they’ll be nothing but supportive.”

Myka recalls her brief conversation with Pete at the office regarding her relationship with Helena. “You’re probably right about that actually, considering Pete already told me he expects to be my best man at our wedding,” she confesses.

“What?” Helena asks completely flummoxed. “When did all this come about?”

“A week ago Friday when I told him we _aren’t_ dating after he told me the talk around the office is that we are.” A brief silence descends and Myka can feel her heart begin to race within her chest in anticipation of Helena’s reaction to that bit of information.

After a momentary loss for words, Helena repeats slowly as if trying to understand each word, “They think we’re dating?” 

Myka nods helplessly, unable to meet Helena’s gaze. 

Helena is startled by the information, though she supposes she really shouldn’t be. Their friends are observant, even Pete with his childish ways, has vibes that can be uncannily perceptive about some things. Likely Helena’s desire for something more than friendship with Myka is evident on her face when she so much as looks at the woman. How could it not be? Myka is stunningly beautiful, mind, body and soul. Only Myka remains unaware or rather unwilling to see Helena’s desire, seemingly content with their relationship as it is. Any subtle attempts Helena has made over the years to initiate something more between them has failed miserably. Myka just isn’t interested. 

“Well then,” Helena says a little too brightly, “our marriage won’t seem so unfounded after all and they’ll be more likely to accept it.” 

“Except I lied to Pete,” Myka groans in frustration. 

“No you didn’t. You told him we weren’t dating, that was true.”

“Not if we’re going to tell him we’re married now. The implication being that we had to be dating at some point.”

“Myka, do you want to just tell Pete the truth of the matter? I’d be alright with that if you do.”

Myka shakes her head. “I don’t want him to be involved in this. I don’t want him to risk getting into any kind of trouble with Immigration Services. Besides, you know Pete, he’d try to help sell our case only to manage saying the wrong thing at the wrong time to the wrong person and we’d all end up behind bars.”

“Yes, that is probably accurate,” Helena sighs.

“Besides,” Myka continues, “it just means more explanations when we get the marriage annulled. It’s already going to be difficult enough trying to explain to my family why our marriage didn’t work out, I don’t want to have to explain it to our friends too.”

“Yes, of course, the annulment,” Helena agrees, her thumb absently grazing her wedding ring at the thought. 

“Isn’t that still the plan?” Myka asks biting her lip with an outrageous, fleeting hope that Helena doesn’t want an annulment after all but maybe instead wants to pursue this…whatever it is between them. “I mean, once Immigration Services is satisfied we haven’t broken the law,” she laughs nervously.

“Absolutely, the plan is still in place,” Helena quickly answers. “And you’re right, it would be better to keep our marriage as quiet as possible, avoiding any unnecessary complications.” 

Myka nods resolutely, the earlier hope vanishing. “And it’s not like our friends are in the habit of coming by either of our apartments without notice anyway.”

“Except you told me Pete dropped by your apartment the night before we were married,” Helena points out.

“Only because he was worried about me,” Myka protests.

“And what about the movie nights we all take turns hosting?”

“Pete is the only one who might come by unexpectedly, the others only come over when invited, so we just don’t host movie nights for a couple months, hopefully enough time for Abigail to determine there is no case against us.” 

“And you don’t think Pete will notice the extra furniture in your apartment if he does happen to come by unannounced?” Helena prods. 

“He’s Pete,” Myka shrugs. “The only thing he’s likely to notice is how much food is in the fridge.”

Helena has to once again concede that assessment is probably accurate. “Fair enough.”

Myka sighs. “Anyway, it’s just for a couple months. What we really should be concerned about is convincing Abigail we married for love and not for your citizenship. Once we do that, our problems should fall away.”

“Of course,” Helena agrees tossing a book rather carelessly into another box. Everything will fall away then, she thinks. 

***

They work all morning, cleaning, sorting items, packing clothes, books and various trinkets Helena has collected. Aside from the furniture, most of Helena’s belongings are neatly packed in the back of Myka’s Jeep ready to be taken to her apartment to then be unpacked. Already tired, Myka nearly groans aloud at the thought of having to do everything they’ve done this morning in reverse once they return to her apartment. Moving is such a pain. 

“Helena, is this box going too?” Myka asks from the doorway, slightly out of breath from her latest trek to the Jeep and back. 

Helena glances briefly at the small box before looking away. “That’s up to you, Myka.”

“Why is it up to me? What’s in it?” she asks confused, seeing apprehension in Helena’s eyes when she finally looks up again.

“Mostly trivial things really,” Helena tries to brush off.

“Okay, you’re being cryptic,” Myka accuses with a nervous laugh. 

“I suppose I am,” Helena sighs as she walks towards the box, removing its lid to reveal several items. A bright red scarf, a stainless steel travel mug, a battered copy of “The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy”, a small opened bag of white chocolate truffles, (a candy Myka knows Helena dislikes), and a faded grey t-shirt with the words “Keep Calm and Dream On”. A shirt that is so overly large it can only be worn as a sleep shirt and since Myka knows now what Helena sleeps in… 

“Oh,” Myka breathes in realization, a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach. She knows now what this box is, what it represents. The realization is only confirmed when she watches Helena reach into the box to pull out a few loose photographs, briefly thumbing through them with an expression on her face Myka can’t quite decipher. Is it pain, regret? 

After a quick glance, Helena lets the photos fall back into the box, hastily replacing the lid. Clearing her throat, she states simply, “As you’ve likely gathered, these are a few of Giselle’s things she left behind.”

Myka swallows hard, trying to tamp down the unpleasant coiling in her stomach. “It’s been weeks since you…I mean she hasn’t asked for them back after all this time?” she asks perplexed. 

“No. I thought she would have by now, but no,” she smiles wanly. “I would just as soon get rid of them, but well, the book has a sentimental value to her, you know how that is, and I didn’t want to dispose of it knowing that one day she will want that back if nothing else. And if she asks for the book to be returned, it seems like I should have the other items on hand for her as well…” Helena rambles looking uncomfortable by the entire ordeal, her eyes searching Myka’s, pleading for to understand and mercifully end her rambling.

Myka nods, she does understand. Helena still cares for Giselle, of course she does. She vaguely wonders what items of Helena’s are in Giselle’s possession but quickly pushes the thought away not wanting to know. 

“Right,” she manages to breathe at last. “It’s a small box, I’m sure we can find a place for it in my apartment. There’s probably room on a shelf in the hall closet where you can store it.”

Helena relaxes only minutely, grateful for Myka’s acceptance of the situation but also aware of the way Myka rubs at her neck, her body rigid.

“Thank you, Myka,” she says sincerely. “I know I’ve already asked so much of you, to add this is…”

“Not a big deal,” Myka interrupts with a resigned shrug of her shoulders. “Let’s just finish up here. I think we’ve done enough for one day.”

“Of course,” Helena responds quietly, the regret in her eyes evident if Myka would only look. But Myka turns away from the woman she’s in love with, at the moment too afraid her own eyes will expose the pain she feels. Gathering one last box, Myka steps out of the apartment, Helena following silently behind with the little box clutched in her arms. 

***

They are both exhausted by the time they return to Myka’s (their) apartment after hours of work. Myka collapses onto the bed, legs and arms sprawled out as she exhales a long sigh, her aching body appreciating the comfort of the mattress. 

“You really should have allowed me to help you more. I can’t believe you insisted on doing all the heavy lifting to carry my things,” Helena admonishes her eyes wandering over Myka’s form, taking in a dust-streaked face and eyes drooping with fatigue.

“And risk you hurting yourself further? I don’t think so. You’re still healing, Helena,” Myka says tiredly, her eyes drifting closed. 

Helena purses her lips knowing Myka is right. Her back is certainly better than it was a week ago, even days ago, but it is still tender, still mending. “Well then, is it all right if I shower first?”

Without opening her eyes, Myka nods. “I can use a moment to rest. Just please be careful.”

It’s a plea Myka hasn’t failed to express every time Helena does take a shower. Helena would roll her eyes at the plea, finding it a nuisance coming from anyone else, but she knows how sincerely Myka means it. “I’ll be careful and I won’t be long,” she promises.

Helena doesn’t linger in the shower, only long enough to soothe the minor ache in her back, the warm water offering just the right amount of relief. Once finished, she pulls on her robe and steps into the bedroom, intending to find something more substantial to wear, but finds instead Myka curled onto her side, sound asleep on the bed. 

Drawn to the sleeping woman, Helena can’t help the soft smile that forms on her lips watching Myka in sleep. Myka’s lips are slightly parted to draw in breath, one arm tucked against her chest, the other lying loosely along the pillow and brunette curls at last let loose from the confines of a ponytail earlier, cascade wildly about her face. 

Myka worked so hard all morning, packing boxes and carrying them down the elevator to load into her Jeep, time and again with little complaint. Helena can’t believe how fortunate she is to have Myka in her life. Lifting a stray curl from Myka’s face, Helena’s thumb gently caresses the soft skin of her temple, drifting down to brush over the beauty mark high on her cheek.

She very nearly leans down to brush her lips against the enticing mark, but catches herself before she can follow through on the desire to feel soft skin beneath her lips. Helena steps away on a sigh, leaving Myka alone to her dreams. 

***

The apartment is quiet when Myka stumbles out of bed hours later. It’s only after showered and dressed in clean clothes that she hears the soft jazz music filtering down the hall where she stops abruptly at the sight of Helena sitting on the floor of the office, boxes, books and papers strewn all around her in a glorified mess. 

“Helena?” Myka asks quietly from the doorway.

Glancing up at the sound of her name, Helena takes in the sight of Myka now dressed in a clean t-shirt and leggings, her curls still damp from her shower. “Myka,” she greets fondly. “Did you sleep well?”

“Yeah. Sorry I slept so long.”

“Nonsense, you needed the rest after working so hard.”

“It looks like you’ve been working hard too. What have you been up to?”

“Organizing; or at least making the attempt to. I also took some measurements and though it will be a tight fit, I’m fairly certain with a little rearranging my desk should be able to fit in this room too. That is if you’re still alright with that?”

“Yeah, of course,” Myka answers with a quick rub at still tired eyes.

“Good,” Helena nods. “The bookshelves however are another matter. There isn’t room in here for them too, so they’ll have to go in the living room. Or if absolutely necessary, I suppose I could try selling some of my books.”

“Absolutely not. You’re keeping your books, we’ll make room for them,” Myka says adamantly, stepping further into the room to sit down on the floor beside Helena. 

“Married me for my book collection, I see,” Helena quips with a grin.

Myka just shakes her head, ignoring the tease. “One can never have too many books. Room for those books however,” she sighs.

“Indeed,” Helena replies smiling, grateful for the easy banter falling between them especially after the earlier tension the morning brought.

“You haven’t been doing any heavy lifting have you?” Myka asks glancing around the disheveled room at boxes that litter the floor.

“I promise you I haven’t done any lifting. Pushing boxes across the floor with my foot, perhaps,” she says with a shrug in the interest of full disclosure. 

“Helena,” Myka groans. “Didn’t I tell you not to do anything to risk hurting your back further? You should have waited for me.”

“Myka, you already did more than enough for me this morning. I promise you I was careful and no harm has been done.”

Myka frowns but refrains from commenting further, instead beginning to help sort through boxes. 

“I must say, you certainly are organized,” Helena says gazing about the room where Myka’s bookshelves are sorted alphabetically by author and her desk is neatly arranged with not so much as a pen out of place. “I hope it won’t be such a shock for you when I move my desk in here with all the chaos that brings.”

“I work with you, Helena, I’m used to it,” Myka deadpans earning a mock glare from Helena.

“I suppose that’s fair,” she sighs. “I’ll try to be tidier, for your sake.”

“Says the woman who practically has to have every cooking utensil, pot, pan, bowel and ingredient set on the kitchen counter all at once when she cooks,” Myka laughs, shaking her head equally exasperated and amused. 

“I like to be well prepared while I cook,” Helena protests.

“I know, Helena. Just be you. I know you and how you work and how to work with you…or live with you as the case may be. Don’t change a thing,” Myka says sincerely as she reaches across the space between them to give a gentle squeeze to Helena’s arm before returning to the task of sorting boxes. 

Helena doesn’t anticipate the strong pull in her stomach Myka’s words and touch bring. Myka is the only person she knows who accepts her just as she is, flaws and all, and seemingly likes her for them. It’s a bit overwhelming and she rises unsteadily to her feet, trying to concentrate on the soothing strains of the saxophone and piano music still playing, rifling through the papers on Myka’s desk just as a distraction from the emotions rising within her.

Helena is startled from her thoughts as her fingers come in contact with a notebook. “Myka, what is this?” Helena asks beginning to leaf through it.

Looking up from her work, Myka’s eyes widen in panic at sight of the book in Helena’s hands. She moves quickly from the floor snatching the book from Helena. “It’s nothing,” she says clutching the notebook to her chest. 

“Clearly,” Helena replies sarcastically, her brow lifting with amusement. “Myka?” she gently prods for an explanation.

“Really, it’s nothing interesting.”

“I think we both know if that were true, you wouldn’t be holding onto it so tightly, protesting so much.”

Myka sighs resignedly. “Fine. It’s not nothing, but it’s just scraps of paper, pictures.”

“Of?”

When Myka doesn’t elaborate, Helena slowly steps forward.

“Okay, I guess since you’re going to let me read your manuscript, it’s only fair I share this with you. Just, please don’t laugh?”

“Myka, you know I would never laugh at you,” Helena says, gently prying the notebook from Myka’s arms with ease. Myka watches intently as Helena flips through the pages. Pages that are full of pictures of houses, exterior designs, landscapes, and interior designs of kitchens, bathrooms, bedrooms, living rooms and so on. 

“What is all this?” Helena asks looking up at Myka confused, noticing the way she bites at her lip anxiously. “Are you looking to purchase a house?”

Myka bites her lip in contemplation, studying Helena’s curious face for several long seconds. “The thought has crossed my mind,” she finally admits. Helena gives her a pointed stare. “Fine, more than crossed my mind.”

“Why haven’t you ever mentioned you wanted to buy a house before?”

“Because it isn’t a big deal. I didn’t even realize I wanted a house until one day I was organizing these scraps of paper I’d collected into a notebook. I’ve lived in apartments my entire life and I’ve been fine with that. Still, a part of me would like something more. To have a nice yard, big enough for a dog to run around in – maybe with some trees.” 

“A dog?” Helena asks, brows lifting with surprise. 

“Yeah…maybe,” Myka shrugs self-consciously. “I just think it would be nice to come home to someone.”

“You have me to come home to now,” Helena points out.

Myka feels her breath catch in her throat with that outrageous hope again, but then remembers the small box sitting in the hall closet. And however intimate their days spent together may feel to Myka now, those generic items in that little box bespeak of another intimacy Helena felt for someone else not too long ago and possibly still feels. 

“For now, yes. But that won’t always be the case, will it?” Myka asks green eyes searching Helena’s brown ones. 

“I suppose not,” Helena says glancing away and Myka swallows down her disappointment at the concession. 

“Anyway, I’ve always thought having a dog would be…comforting,” Myka continues. “I wanted one when I was a kid, to have a loyal friend like I was sure a dog would be, but my dad didn’t think it would be a good idea when we didn’t have a yard. The same reason I’m keeping myself from getting a dog now,” she muses. “And, as for a house, it’s only me, so even though I can probably afford to buy a house, it still seems a bit…excessive for just one person,” she says folding her arms across her chest.

“Myka, if a house is something you want, that you would love, it’s not excessive. You should never be ashamed or embarrassed to want something that will make you happy,” Helena says emphatically. 

Myka nods. “I’m trying to come to terms with that.” 

“And this notebook?” she questions.

“Ideas,” Myka shrugs, “for what I would like my home to look like, the kind of kitchen cabinets I’d like, countertops, the flooring, what kind of furniture, that sort of thing.”

“So you’d like to build a custom home?”

Myka smiles wide at the thought. “I would love to have a custom home built, but finding property that’s affordable and have enough to build my dream home is proving to be difficult. I’ll probably just end up buying something I can work with – refurbish it if need be.”

The thought occurs to Helena that together they could build that dream home, but she pushes the thought aside as soon as it comes. She may be married to Myka now, but it won’t be forever as Myka only reiterated moments ago.

“Well, whatever the house is, I’m sure it will be lovely, Myka because you’ll make it a home for you and whomever you share it with,” Helena says softly not really wanting to visualize Myka sharing a home with anyone…that isn’t her. “I just hope I shall always have a welcome place beside your hearth,” she says a little too brightly. 

“You know you will,” Myka responds, unable to voice her desire that Helena have a permanent place beside that hearth.

“Good,” Helena smiles before quickly turning away to begin sorting and organizing again. 

***

Standing in front of the bathroom mirror, Myka tries to tame her curls into some semblance of order but her task is forgotten the second Helena breezes in to stand beside her at the mirror, leaning forward over the sink to touch-up her make-up. Myka forgets taming her curls altogether at the sight of Helena wearing a soft blue cashmere sweater, the v-neckline plunging just low enough to reveal a hint of cleavage.

Myka feels her face flush and forces her gaze away. “That’s what you’re wearing to dinner?” she asks, her throat dry.

Helena looks down at her attire, smoothing down black slacks. “Is it alright? Would you rather I wear a dress?”

“No…yeah…I mean,” Myka takes a frustrated breath, “that sweater looks good on you, Helena. It reminds me of the sweater you wore the first time I brought you to my parents’ home for dinner.”

Helena’s dark eyes sparkle at the admission. “I thought you’d notice that little detail.”

Myka’s eyes widen in surprise. “It’s not the same sweater is it?”

“No,” Helena laughs lightly, “That one unfortunately didn’t survive the night, or rather didn’t survive the red wine.”

Myka looks chagrined, remembering her embarrassment from that night. The way she’d been so distracted that she’d tripped carrying a glass of red wine, spilling it over the very cause of her distraction; Helena in that blue sweater.

“But since you seemed to like that sweater so much, I decided to acquire a similar one to wear this evening as a sort of a homage to that first dinner with your family, and now tonight the first dinner with them as your wife.”

Myka doesn’t know what to say in response and aware that Helena is watching her through the mirror, she quickly draws the brush through her hair again for something to do, trying not to wince when the bristles snag on a curl. 

“You look lovely, Myka,” Helena says taking in Myka’s own sweater of deep purple with a scooped neckline that reveals the soft swell of her breasts. “Very lovely,” she says her eyes lingering longer than they probably should.

“Thanks,” Myka smiles self-consciously. Setting down the brush she intends to reapply a little blush to her cheeks but a quick glance in the mirror at a face already flushed she decides she likely won’t need any more blush tonight. Instead she grasps lip-gloss, focusing her attention on applying it to her lips trying to ignore the fact Helena stands just beside her. Helena who is now leaning across Myka, her arm brushing along Myka’s and her beautiful face so close as she reaches across the sink to grasp a bottle of perfume. As Helena pulls back, lightly dabbing her wrist with the perfume, the scent that wafts through the room is as soft and intoxicating as Helena is and Myka can’t ignore the way her stomach pulls pleasantly at the sweet fragrance she has long come to associate with Helena. 

“Sorry,” Helena apologizes as she reaches across Myka again to put the bottle back in its place. “It’s a bit cozy in here, isn’t it?” she smiles.

“Yeah it is,” Myka breathes still clutching the lip-gloss in her hand. She laughs lightly. “If I had a house, we’d likely have a master bathroom with two sinks so we could each have our own space. I mean hypothetically speaking. Not that you and I would…or wouldn’t…”

“Of course, I know what you mean,” Helena interrupts. “A master bathroom would afford us enough room that we wouldn’t get in each other’s way, hypothetically speaking.”

“You’re not in my way, Helena,” Myka is quick to refute. “And there’s something to be said for sharing a small space. It’s intimate,” Myka says before she can rein in the words. She glances away from Helena’s penetrating stare in the mirror to finally put the lip-gloss away. 

An awkward silence falls between them as they studiously try not to glance at each other in the mirror as they continue to get ready.

“I thought we should stop on the way to get your mother flowers,” Helena breaks the silence.

“Helena, you don’t have to do that.”

“I want to, Myka. She’s going to all the trouble of having us over for dinner, it’s the least I can do.”

“Except it’s no trouble for her. She’s the one who wants us there, remember?” Myka smiles. “We’re the ones that are going to go through trouble, believe me.”

Helena regards Myka silently for a moment, noticing the way she rubs at her neck, her face reflecting a slight trepidation. “You’re really worried about tonight, aren’t you?”

Myka scoffs. “Aren’t you? We’re going to be scrutinized. Talk about being interrogated by Immigration Services, dinner with my family will be so much worse.”

“Myka, they’re your family. Your mother and sister we already know are delighted by our nuptials.”

“Delighted, yes, which means now they’ll want details, explicit details about our relationship, our marriage, our future. Details they asked me for last weekend that I managed only to divert them from with the excuse that we would talk about them at this dinner when we were both present.”

“So we’ll tell them the details then. We did have a ceremony after all, we can elaborate on that.”

“And what about my dad?”

“What about him?”

“He hasn’t called since my mom told him the news. I don’t think it bodes well for us that he hasn’t called.”

Helena shrugs her shoulders at this. “Perhaps he just needed time to process the information and would rather extend his well wishes in person,” she says hopefully.

Myka looks back skeptically. “My dad?”

Helena laughs. “Yes, your father. Give the man a little more credit, Myka. He does love you, you know.”

“He has a funny way of showing it sometimes.”

“Some people just aren’t comfortable voicing their feelings. It doesn’t make those feelings any less valid, does it?” she asks softly.

Myka shakes her head.

“So then, what are your mother’s favorite flowers?” Helena asks returning to the original topic.

Myka takes a moment to consider the question. “Glads I think.”

“Gladiolus?” Helena asks surprised.

“Is that significant?”

“Not significant. Coincidental perhaps. They were my mother’s favorite as well,” Helena says softly in remembrance.

Myka reaches out to gently touch her arm and offers a sympathetic squeeze.

Helena covers Myka’s hand with her own, grateful for the gesture. “I used to give her flowers on her birthday. She loved the red ones best. It will be nice to give gladiolus again to a mother, albeit mother-in-law,” she smiles softly.

“She’ll love them,” Myka assures, feeling her chest constrict with rising emotion.

***

They are twenty minutes from the Bering residence when Myka starts to fidget unconsciously. Seemingly unable to get comfortable as she drives, her eyes are trained on the roadway but her mind runs rampant, worrying about all the possible things that could go wrong tonight at dinner with her family; with her father.

It isn’t until she feels the soft touch of Helena’s hand on her knee that she’s finally pulled from her thoughts, looking down at that hand, to the wedding ring gleaming on a slender finger before looking back up to meet Helena’s eyes looking at her with amusement and a hint of concern. 

Myka flushes with embarrassment, realizing Helena was probably speaking to her, saying her name with no response. “Sorry,” she apologizes automatically. 

“For what? I merely asked if you were all right, called you by name four times trying to elicit a response. I’m delighted to know when all else fails, my touch at least does garner a response from you,” she smirks.

Myka bites her lip, feeling the heat of Helena’s hand radiating through her slacks where it still rests on Myka’s knee.

When Myka doesn’t say anything, Helena goes on. “They’re your family, Myka, there’s no need to be so nervous. You already know your mother and Tracy are supportive, ecstatic even about our marriage.”

“Yeah, but my dad…”

“I’m sure will be fine with it too. Your mother did say she and your father expected us…that we would happen,” Helena says gesturing between them to indicate some sort of intimate relationship.

“Because you are the only person I’ve ever brought home?” Myka asks incredulously. “What kind of logic is that? I mean, thank god I never brought home Pete or…or Claudia, I mean can you imagine?” Myka laughs nervously. 

Helena sighs at obvious deflection, removing her hand from Myka’s knee to trail it through her hair, unaware of Myka briefly lifting her gaze from the road to track the movement. “Somehow I seriously doubt your parents or indeed anyone for that matter would see anything more than a platonic attachment between you and Pete or Claudia.”

“Yeah, you’re right,” Myka answers softly, aware that her words may have injured Helena’s pride in some way, but uncertain how to fix that without giving away her true feelings. “I suppose it’s just as well they do see that...energy between us.”

“Oh?” Helena prods interestedly.

“Yeah. I mean, given the circumstances, their viewpoint can only help the situation. We are married and if they already think it’s believable, then we don’t have to work so hard at pretending to be actually married.”

“We are actually married.”

“You know what I mean, Helena. We can just be ourselves around them. Act normal.”

“You mean without demonstrating any public displays of affection?” Helena tries to clarify, a smile pulling at her lips. 

Myka shrugs, feeling her heart begin to race at Helena’s devious smirk that belies any intention that she will in fact act normal. “I’m just saying, we don’t have to do anything extra to sell our case; they’re not Abigail.”

“Yes, that’s true, though I should point out, we haven’t really done anything extra as you say in front of Abigail either, which may be part of our problem and why she still feels a need to investigate our marriage.”

Now Myka sighs heavily. “I know, you’re right. But it’s all so awkward with her observing us. I feel like anything we do will look forced anyway.”

“I know what you mean,” Helena acquiesces. “I’ve thought the same way, but Myka, we’re going to have to ‘up our game’ as Pete likes to say if we truly are to get Immigration Services off our backs. I have no desire to be locked in a room to be interrogated about every detail of our marriage, waiting for authorities to pounce the second I give the wrong answer about the color of your toothbrush!” she complains. 

“I don’t think Abigail mentioned anything about locked doors. And she called it an interview, not interrogation,” Myka corrects Helena’s dramatization with a grin.

“I’m reading between the lines, Myka,” Helena says exasperated. “It will be an interrogation, locked doors or not, and if we don’t get all the answers right, it will mean imprisonment, likely for us both.”

“I know, I know, you’re right,” Myka says seriously. “And I have no intention of letting it get that far, Helena,” she assures, reaching to grasp Helena’s hand in hers to offer comfort. “We’ll ‘up our game’ or whatever it takes to make Abigail believe our marriage isn’t a fraud.”

“Even if that should include a little PDA?” Helena inquires with a raised eyebrow. 

Myka turns to briefly meet Helena’s dark eyes and feels her breath catch at the sight of those eyes looking at her with equal part amusement and affection. “Even that,” Myka exhales as she turns down the driveway to her parents’ home.

“Good,” Helena responds as Myka parks the Jeep and turns off the ignition. “We can practice a little PDA tonight then,” she says with a wink as she exits the passenger door, closing it before opening the back door to grab the bouquet of flowers they brought with them. Noticing Myka hasn’t moved since they parked, Helena asks, “Coming, darling?”

“Uh…yeah,” Myka responds making movement to exit the vehicle only to be snapped back into her seat.

“I believe you may have more luck unbuckling your seatbelt first,” Helena quips.

Myka quickly does just that before finally meeting Helena in front of the Jeep as they make their way up the driveway together.

Helena looks on appreciatively at the landscape. “Your parents have certainly transformed this garden. Hard to believe it’s been less than two years since they bought this place, the garden looks as if it’s been decades in the making.”

“Yeah, who knew they both had such green thumbs? But I’m happy for them, finally to have a house after all the years they lived above the bookshop. They’re happier here than I’ve ever seen them.”

“Well that may have something to do with retirement as well, don’t you think?”

“Probably,” Myka agrees. 

“I imagine they still miss the bookstore though.”

“Some days. But I think they were also ready to retire, at least my mom was,” she amends, “and when the offer came up, it was too good to pass up. I think they’re better for it, truthfully, and I’ve never seen my mom happier than she is now in this house.”

“Little wonder why,” Helena says admiring the modest two-story structure with dormer windows and a large front porch.

They linger there on the walkway, Myka already anxious for the evening ahead and Helena suddenly becoming so. Ignoring the inevitable for the moment, they instead admire brightly colored chrysanthemums and asters that adorn the way.

“The flowers are pretty but do you really intend to stay out here all evening to admire them?” Jeannie Bering asks amusedly from the open doorway, shaking her head at them. 

Startled, both women look up with sheepish expressions giving away their consideration of doing exactly that. 

“It’s too cold out here to linger long,” Jeannie admonishes, rubbing her arms to ward off the chill of the evening air. “Come on inside where it’s warm. We’ve all been waiting for you.”

Myka quietly groans that their interlude has been broken, but when Helena turns to her, offering a sympathetic smile and takes her hand to lead her to the remaining few steps to the door, Myka doesn’t mind the interruption quite so much. 

“My fault entirely, Mrs. Bering, Jeannie,” Helena apologizes. “I was just telling Myka how lovely your garden is looking. It’s quite remarkable all the work you’ve put into it.”

“I’d hardly call it work when I enjoy it as much as I do,” Jeannie laughs as she steps back to allow the women entrance into the home, taking the flowers Helena offers her. “Gladiolus! My favorite flowers – thank you. They’re so lovely,” she says admiring the range of colors.

“Myka told me they’re your favorite. They happened to be my mother’s favorite as well,” Helena says smiling softly.

“Were they? Well that makes two things your mother and I share then. Our love of gladiolus and you,” Jeannie smiles warmly.

“Oh, yes?” Helena breathes shakily, caught off guard by the affection Jeannie so readily offers. Myka steps beside her, discretely touching her arm to offer a squeeze as if to say, ‘all right?’ Helena swallows down the sudden emotion, and turns to smile at her.

“Of course we have that in common, dear,” Jeannie continues. “Warren! Myka and Helena are here,” she calls down the hall. She looks from Myka to Helena and back again with a wide smile. “Oh, it’s so good to have you both here,” she gushes, engulfing Myka in a hug. “And Helena, dear,” Jeannie addresses, laying a gentle hand on her arm, how is your back – better I hope?” 

“Considerably better than it was last weekend. Myka has taken great care of me, making sure I don’t overexert myself, much to my annoyance at times,” she grins at Myka. “I’m afraid I’m not a very patient, patient.”

“You haven’t been so bad,” Myka states helping Helena remove her coat before slipping off her own, handing them both to her mother to hang in the closet. 

“Well, I’m glad you’re feeling better,” Jeannie says stepping forward then to embrace Helena in a hug as well. “Welcome to the family, dear,” she whispers against her ear.

Helena, caught off guard again by the open display of affection from Myka’s mother awkwardly returns the embrace only to startle away from it at the sound of another voice.

“I hear there are newlyweds in our midst,” Warren greets wryly. “Thought I better get a look at you – see if you look any different.”

“Hi, Dad,” Myka says stepping forward to offer him a brief hug.

“Myka, Helena,” he nods at them, taking in their appearance, the way they stand so near each other, wearing similar sweaters, matching rings and matching expressions of nervous anticipation with just a hint of defiance glimmering in their eyes. 

“I admit I was floored when Jeannie told me you’d gotten married so suddenly, but I suppose with the threat of deportation looming it’s only natural you’d decide to get married so spur of the moment – with no time to let your family know of your plans.”

“Warren!” Jeannie rebukes.

“Seriously, Dad? We haven’t even sat down yet,” Myka says perturbed.

“What? All I said was the marriage was sudden. That’s a fact isn’t it?” Warren observes the rising color in Myka’s cheeks whether from anger or embarrassment is uncertain, but either way, it’s for Helena’s sake.

“Now that you’ve been properly welcomed,” Jeannie says shooting her husband a pointed look, “come make yourselves more comfortable in the living room. Tracy and Kevin are already here, eager to see you.”

They follow the Berings down the hall, Myka looking apologetically at Helena who gives her a reassuring smile in return. 

Kevin quickly rises from his chair to greet the women when they enter the room. “Tracy tells me congratulations are in order for you two,” he smiles. Stepping close to Myka he wraps her in a hug. “Congrats, Myka. Helena is a catch,” he winks at her as he pulls away.

“Yeah, thanks, Kevin,” Myka smiles bashfully, catching a glance at Helena.

“And you!” he directs at Helena. “I guess this makes us family now too, _Sis_.”

“Oh dear, just what I need, another meddlesome brother,” Helena says with an exaggerated eye roll, but a grin betrays her true sentiment on the matter. 

Kevin pulls her into a hug too, telling her,” You’re lucky to have Myka.”

“I well know it,” she agrees with an affectionate smile for Myka before directing her attention back to her new brother-in-law. “At least I won’t have to worry about you flirting with my wife unlike my brother Charles, so that’s a point in your favor.”

“I wouldn’t dare. Tracy would disown me,” he says returning to his wife’s side who playfully slaps his shoulder.

“I’d do no such thing. Someone has change this baby’s diapers after all,” she jokes. 

“I see. I’m only good for future diaper duty, is that it?” he asks her.

Tracy pretends to give the question serious consideration. “Hmm. You might be good for a few other things.”

“Well at least you’ll keep me around until we meet the little fellow,” he says laying a gentle hand along her growing stomach.

“Wait, fellow?” Myka asks surprised. “You found out the sex?”

“No,” Tracy laughs. “”Kevin alternates calling the baby little fellow to little lady. This just happens to be a fellow day, that’s all.”

“Well, have you settled on names yet?” Helena asks interestedly as she sits beside Myka on the sofa, laying her hand along Myka’s thigh, smiling when she feels the muscle under her hand tense with surprise before relaxing. 

“We have a few picked out, both boy and girl names, but nothing set in stone.”

“That’s only because Tracy keeps looking up new names everyday,” Kevin explains with a look of fond exasperation towards his wife. “We have enough names now to field a baseball team.”

“You’ll know the right name when the baby comes,” Jeannie assures. “That’s how it was naming the two of you,” she says looking thoughtfully at her daughters.

“That leads me to ask you, Jeannie, how did Myka come by her name?” Helena asks interested.

“It’s a family name actually. Warren’s grandmother’s name was Micah, named after her father who died in the war before she was born. And like her father, she went on to serve during World War II as a nurse. The stories she would tell,” Jeannie sighs in remembrance.

“I briefly considered studying medicine in college because of the stories Dad would tell about her,” Myka explains to Helena, “but soon realized medicine just wasn’t for me.”

“Nor was law, apparently,” Warren adds.

“No, it wasn’t,” Myka agrees tersely. “But I’ve always loved literature, a love you instilled in me, Dad and now I couldn’t be happier with my career. Even more so that it led me to Helena,” she adds with a soft look for the woman beside her.

“And I’m very grateful for your love of literature,” Helena replies, caressing the thigh beneath her hand, smiling when Myka covers her hand to halt her ministrations.

“Anyway, Warren and I both liked name, liked that it could be for either gender. Though we did decide to change the spelling once we realized we had a girl.” 

“Well I’m certainly glad you chose the name, it suits Myka perfectly,” Helena says looking at Myka.

“I’ve always liked the name,” Warren says. Clearing his throat, he asks, “Jeannie, how much longer before dinner is ready?”

Jeannie glances at her watch. “About another twenty minutes, dear.”

“Good,” he nods with approval as he rises from his chair. “That will give Helena and I a chance to have a little talk.”

“Oh, the talk about intentions,” Kevin sighs. “I had the same talk when I wanted to marry Tracy. Good luck, Helena.”

“Wait, what? Why do you need to talk?” Myka asks instantly alarmed as she too rises from her seat. “There’s no need for a talk, we’re married, you know her intentions,” Myka states adamantly. 

Warren raises his brow at his daughter’s outburst but remains silent as he observes Helena trying to soothe Myka.

“It’s perfectly all right, Myka,” she says standing and linking her fingers with Myka’s to offer a reassuring squeeze. “I’m more than happy to discuss any subject matter with your father and to discuss you in particular,” she smiles.

Myka ignores the way her pulse races at Helena’s words, her panic over what her father could possibly want to discuss with Helena overriding all else. “Helena, you don’t have to do this,” Myka says, her eyes pleading.

Helena smiles warmly at the worry in reflected in green eyes. “I want to speak with your father, Myka, set him at ease about us. You know I’m more than capable of taking care of myself, so let me do this now, all right, love?”

Myka’s eyes widen in surprise at the endearment. ‘Love’ isn’t something she’s heard from Helena’s lips directed at her before and she’s struck by how much she wants to hear Helena say it again. Looking into brown eyes, Myka sees serenity there and slightly mollified she simply nods. “Okay, but if he says anything to upset you…”

“I’ll be fine,” Helena assures, stepping forward to place a swift kiss against Myka’s cheek, causing her to blush knowing full well her family is watching. “Save a place for me beside you at the table for dinner?” 

Myka just nods.

“I’ll be back soon,” Helena promises as she follows Warren out of the room. Myka watches her out of sight, wanting nothing more than to follow her.

“Myka, come with me into the kitchen,” Jeannie entreats as she makes her way out of the living room. “You can mix the salad, help keep you from worrying over ‘the talk’ as Kevin says.”

“I seriously doubt anything will keep me from worrying,” she mutters but obediently follows her mother into the kitchen. Arms crossed defensively across her chest, she watches her mother gather various ingredients for the salad, a head of lettuce, tomatoes, carrots, before placing them on the counter near the sink. 

“If nothing will keep you from worrying over what your father will say, maybe the view will offer some insight,” Jeannie says laying a gentle hand along her daughter’s shoulder before retreating with a knowing smile. 

Myka glances sullenly out the window that overlooks the backyard. She straightens when she sees Helena with her father walking through the yard at a leisurely pace. Myka sighs at the sight. Now at least she can watch over them both and if Helena shows any sign of distress, Myka won’t hesitate to go to her. 

***

“Your garden is lovely, Mr. Bering,” Helena speaks admiringly, glancing at the surrounding flowers and bushes that refuse to sleep just yet for the approaching winter. 

“Yes, it is,” he agrees. “That’s mostly all Jeannie’s work. She has a knack with flowers.”

“Myka tells me you do as well.”

“No, not really. Jeannie just tells me where to dig the holes for some of the larger plants and I simply follow her direction. She’s the one who nurtures the flowers, encourages them to grow.”

“The flowers wouldn’t bloom and grow without the soil you dug to make room for their roots,” Helena points out.

Warren stares into brown eyes for a long moment, gauging her expression and contemplating the meaning behind the simple words. “Maybe not,” he finally concedes. “At any rate, if you think the garden looks lovely now, you should have seen it earlier this summer when it was full of color.”

“Well there’s always next year,” Helena remarks lightly.

“I sincerely hope you mean that, Helena. For Myka’s sake.”

“Ah yes, the talk,” Helena sighs. We’ve finally arrived at it now have we? Well then, what exactly do you wish to talk about? You must know my intentions.”

“Do I?” Warren counters.

“I should think so, especially considering Jeannie as much as told Myka and I you both expected that we would become something more than friends.”

“That was before.”

“Before what exactly?”

“Before Jeannie relayed the fact you married my daughter so suddenly to avoid your imminent deportation,” Warren states.

Helena remains silent under the implied accusation; under the justified accusation she amends. 

“You know, Kevin came to me to ask for Tracy’s hand in marriage the way a proper suitor should,” Warren goes on and there is an underlying anger in his words that Helena can’t help but notice.

It strikes up Helena’s own anger. “A bit old-fashioned to ask the father’s permission for what is ultimately the daughter’s decision, don’t you think?”

“It was respectful.”

“With all due _respect_ , Mr. Bering, I respect Myka’s decisions as her own to make. I asked her to marry me because the thought of leaving her was unbearable and she said yes because she wanted to.”

“I just don’t want to see her hurt,” Warren speaks lowly.

“I don’t either and I would never intentionally hurt Myka, I assure you.”

“Intentionally, no I don’t believe you would. Unintentionally however…” he trails off with a heavy sigh. 

“I don’t know if you realize it, but you’re the first person, the only person, Myka has ever brought home to meet us. Yes, we’ve heard all about her other coworkers, but when she asked if it was all right to invite you to that first Thanksgiving dinner years ago, Jeannie and I knew there was something different about you, something special. And then we saw the way Myka was around you and I can’t even begin to describe it. I’ve never seen her look that way at anyone else.”

“How does she look at me?” Helena asks curious.

“Contented. As though you’re the most important person in her life.”

Helena is startled by the conviction of his words, in his voice. “Oh,” she breathes, at a loss what else to say.

“Please tell me that your sudden marriage to Myka isn’t just to evade deportation.”

“Myka and I have known each other three years. We’ve worked side by side and have become best friends and were just beginning to explore something more. In that respect, there’s nothing sudden about our marriage. When the issue of my possible deportation arose, what was _sudden_ was the realization that I couldn’t possibly leave Myka. It was simply unthinkable,” she smiles wanly. 

Softly she continues. “The circumstances for our marriage may not have been ideal, but it doesn’t make our decision to marry as we did any less valid.”

Warren remains silent a moment, mulling over her words. “You’ve neglected to say that you love her. Do you love my daughter?”

Helena has expected the question to come from the moment Warren initiated this talk, but the blatancy of it still has her floundering for a sufficient answer, a truthful one. 

“I should think my feelings for Myka are very obvious, but if you need to hear me say the words, yes, I love Myka, I always have.” It’s not a lie, Helena can take comfort in that. Myka is her dearest friend, of course she loves her. The exact nature of that love, Helena won’t allow herself to examine.

Regardless, Warren seems satisfied with her answer as he nods his head approvingly. “Well then, we better get back inside. It’s too cold out here to linger and Myka hasn’t looked away from the kitchen window since we stepped out here.”

Helena turns sharply to glance back at the house, seeing Myka standing at a window watching them just as Warren said. She smiles at the sight of Myka being so protective and anxious for her. 

“You might as well go to her and try to set her at ease.”

***

Helena silently watches Myka at the counter, apparently mashing potatoes for dinner. She has a desire to simply step behind her and wrap her arms around her slender waist to pull her to her. The urge to do so is so great she’s uncertain she can refrain from doing just that. Then again, they are married, her family knows they’re married, it might be better to act on her desire to help sell their case as it were. 

Finally decided, Helena steps behind Myka and slips her arms around the taller woman’s waist, pulling her gently to her.

Myka gasps with surprise at the feel of an arm slipping around her waist and tries to turn around, but instead she is pulled closer to the slim body behind her.

“It’s just me, darling,” Helena husks into her ear and smiles when she feels Myka shudder involuntarily.

“What are you doing?” Myka asks, her voice a whisper.

“I should think it’s rather obvious. I’m showing my wife affection,” Helena replies, brushing a soft kiss against the side of Myka’s neck, smiling wider as Myka slowly exhales.

“You don’t have to do this,” Myka says.

“And if I want to?” Helena counters.

“Helena…”

“I’m simply upping our game, remember?” Helena whispers against Myka’s ear, pulling her intimately closer to her. 

“My family isn’t Abigail,” Myka whispers back.

Helena laughs. “Practice, darling. Besides, your father voiced his doubts to me just now about the sincerity of our marriage, believing we married to avoid my deportation.” 

Myka groans. “Of course he doubts our sincerity. Though, he’s not wrong, is he?” Myka asks furrowing her brow. 

“No, not entirely,” Helena concedes.

And before Myka can ask Helena to elaborate on her use of ‘entirely’ in that statement their conversation is interrupted by a sound of glee from behind them.

“Oh, you two are so sweet together,” Tracy enthuses, grinning at the sight of Helena’s arms wrapped around her sister.

Myka steps out of the gentle embrace self-consciously. “Hey, Trace, you need something?”

“No, I’m sorry for interrupting,” Tracy hurriedly apologizes, “I just came to get a glass of water for dinner.” 

“Myka, haven’t you finished mashing the potatoes yet?” Jeannie gently admonishes entering the kitchen to gather serving spoons. “The table is all set except for those.”

“Mom, cut the woman some slack. She’s a newlywed now and Helena is a considerable distraction,” Tracy grins at them. 

Jeannie shakes her head fondly at her daughters. “Well newlywed,” she addresses Myka, “you know how your father loves his roast beef with mashed potatoes so hurry along.”

“They’re nearly finished,” Myka says turning her attention back to the task.

“Tracy, take this bottle of wine to the table, please,” Jeannie tells her, placing the bottle in her arms.

“Oh, wine,” Tracy sighs, “how I’ve missed you. It’s been far too long since we were acquainted,” she says looking at the wine bottle longingly.

Helena laughs. “Isn’t the baby due next month? It won’t be too much longer before you can indulge again.”

“Yes, next month thankfully but then I plan to breastfeed, so no alcohol for the duration,” she sighs. 

“Ah, you have my sympathy then,” Helena smiles. “Still, you’re having a baby, your child. That should make all the sacrifices worth it,” she adds thoughtfully glancing at Tracy’s protruding stomach.

“Yeah, it will,” Tracy agrees, rubbing the soft swell, laughing when she feels a kick. “He/she has been active all day, kicking up a storm. Do you want to feel, Helena?”

“Oh, is it all right?” she asks hopeful.

“Of course,” Tracy laughs, reaching for Helena’s hand to place it over her stomach. Helena waits several seconds before she feels the gentle vibration of a kick against her hand. She laughs at the sensation. “It feels as though you’ve got a little football player in there.”

Tracy shakes her head with a laugh. “That’s one sport I don’t want my kid playing. Too dangerous.”

“She means soccer, Trace,” Myka explains.

“Oh, right, you’re English.” 

“Incurably so,” Helena quips with a grin at Myka who shakes her head, trying not to grin in return and failing. 

“I’d be okay with soccer but I think Kevin has his heart set on this one being a baseball player.”

“Maybe the child will choose dance over sports or something else artistic like music, art, or drama,” Jeannie adds her two cents. “You girls were so different from each other. You with your cheerleading and track and Myka with fencing and ice skating.”

Tracy laughs. “Whatever the baby wants to do is fine by me, but it will be a few years before we have to worry about all that thank goodness.”

“Myka, have you felt the baby kick?” Helena asks, her hand still hovering over Tracy’s stomach.

“Yeah, but it’s been awhile,” she admits.

“Come feel the baby now, Myka,” Tracy entreats. “When you felt it before the kicking was hardly a flutter, now there’s some oomph behind it,” she laughs.

Myka places her hand near Helena’s over her sister’s stomach, waiting for the kick to come. When it does, Helena laughs delightedly, her face radiating such awe and unfettered joy that it momentarily takes Myka’s breath away. 

“So, any chance you two will give this little one a cousin or two to play with in the near future?” Tracy asks smiling. 

Myka drops her hand away and Helena slowly removes her hand as she looks at Myka dubiously. They touched on the subject of children very briefly that morning in the clerk’s office applying for their marriage license but they are hardly in a position to answer such a question as a couple. They both entered into this marriage with the knowledge that it would be temporary; a means for Helena to retain residency in the country, nothing more. Myka’s family are all under the impression her marriage to Myka is one that was entered into for love. It’s an impression that she and Myka are working to instill even now and with Tracy looking at her so expectantly, hopefully, it leaves a feeling of unease in the pit of her stomach. She doesn’t want to mislead this family and yet she has to.

Helena tucks a strand of hair behind her ear as she tries to formulate an adequate answer. “Well, we haven’t really decided…that is to say…” 

“Tracy, it’s really too soon to discuss children, don’t you think?” Myka interrupts Helena’s uncharacteristic mumbling. “I mean we’ve only been married a little over a week.”

Tracy observes their startled looks and clamps a hand over her mouth. “I’m sorry,” she quickly apologizes. “I don’t mean to pressure you…it’s just…you are so perfect together and I think you would make great moms, if you choose to have children that is.”

“For the record, I agree with Tracy, you’d make wonderful mothers and more grandchildren would be a welcome addition to the family,” Jeannie smiles at the newlyweds who still look at a loss for words. “But talk of children can wait, dinner can’t so come along girls,” she says gathering the bowl of mashed potatoes and gently guiding Tracy out of the kitchen. “Oh, Myka,” she says turning again, “did you bring the wedding photos as you promised?”

“Yeah, I did, Mom.”

“Good, bring them to the table so we can all have a look at them over dinner, all right?”

Myka nods as she watches her mother and sister walk out of the kitchen, finally leaving Myka and Helena alone for a moment.

“Well that was unexpected,” Helena says.

“ _So_ unexpected,” Myka exhales. “I did warn you that this dinner with my family would be worse than any interview by Immigration Services.”

“You did.”

“Do you think we could sneak out without them noticing?”

“I doubt it. They mean well, Myka, they just want to see us happy. It’s quite lovely actually and I think that’s what makes this all so difficult. I regret that I’m misleading them about the reason for our marriage,” she says soberly.

“Hey, we’re in this together, Helena,” Myka says stepping forward to lay a comforting hand along her arm. “Yes, it’s regrettable misleading them but I don’t regret marrying you.”

“You’re still sure about that?” Helena asks. “Even after all that has just transpired?”

“You’re still here aren’t you? Not four thousand miles away. That’s all that matters to me right now,” Myka replies softly taking Helena’s hand in hers to lead her out of the kitchen towards the dining room.

“Righty-ho then,” Helena replies heartened.

***

“Let’s see the wedding photos, Myka,” Jeannie says eagerly reaching to take them from Myka. At the first glance Jeannie clutches at her heart. “Oh, Myka, you look so beautiful, you both do,” she says looking at her eldest daughter and new daughter-in-law. “I wish I could have been there.” 

“You really didn’t miss much, Mom,” Myka tries to assure, taking a sip of wine. “The entire ceremony couldn’t have lasted more than fifteen minutes. You would have spent more time driving to the ceremony than actually attending it.”

With one last look, Jeannie passes the photographs to Tracy to look at, Kevin glancing over her shoulder to view them too.

“Still, it was your wedding, Myka. It’s one of the most important days of your life and I missed it,” Jeannie sighs. 

“You have to let us give you a bridal shower, Myka, to make up for missing your wedding,” Tracy insists.

“Yes, please let us do that for you,” Jeannie entreats.

“Really, that’s not necessary,” Myka says. “Helena and I have everything we need.”

“More than we need,” Helena adds. “We spent most of yesterday morning packing my things, trying to figure out how it will all fit into Myka’s apartment.”

“Do you need help moving?” Warren asks without looking up from the photos he now has in his hand.

“I think we’ve got it covered, but thanks for asking, Dad.”

Warren nods. “These pictures…do you think you could have copies made to give to your mother and I to keep?”

Myka is surprised by the question, glancing at Helena who nods her encouragement. “Yeah, I…that shouldn’t be a problem.”

“I just thought one of these might look good on the wall next to Tracy and Kevin’s wedding picture is all,” he explains returning the pictures to Myka.

“A photograph would be wonderful,” Jeannie readily agrees. “And very soon we’ll have the baby’s picture to add to the wall too,” she says reaching to pat Tracy’s hand.

“Since it’s only a few weeks before the baby arrives, now is the opportune time to give you that bridal shower,” Tracy mentions again. “Speak now or forever hold your peace because after the baby comes along I have a feeling I won’t have time for anything else for awhile.” 

Myka sighs in defeat. “Let Helena and I think about it, okay?”

“Just don’t take too long thinking about it. The clock’s ticking and I really just want an excuse to throw a party,” she winks.

“That’s very sweet of you, Tracy,” Helena says, “and I promise you Myka and I will give it some consideration. In the interim, thank you for dinner tonight, Jeannie, it’s lovely.”

“You’re welcome, Helena. I had thought to bake a cake for you in celebration, but I didn’t know your favorite cake and I also know cake in general isn’t one of Myka’s favorites, so I decided to make what is her favorite dessert instead.”

“You made apple cobbler?” Myka asks hopeful. 

“I did, special for you,” Jeannie smiles at her daughter. “We have to celebrate your marriage to Helena in some way after all.”

“What’s this?” Helena pipes up. “My wife who professes not to eat sugar loves another sugary treat?” she smirks earning a good laugh from Tracy and Jeannie and a blush from Myka.

“It has apples,” Myka protests. “They’re healthy.”

“Yeah, pretty sure they’re not when they’re mixed in with butter, sugar and cinnamon,” Tracy points out. “But it is oh so good.”

“I’m just teasing, love,” Helena says leaning forward to brush a kiss at the corner of Myka’s mouth, grinning as she pulls back to see that mouth slightly parted in astonishment. “Jeannie, you’ll have to give me your recipe so I can make it for Myka in the future.”

“I’d be happy to,” she beams.

***

It’s late when they finally arrive home. Myka is already in bed, looking longingly at Helena’s manuscript that still sits untouched on her nightstand, when Helena finally makes her way across the room to get in her side of the bed. The nights are colder now and both of them have traded sleep shorts for flannel pajama pants. Myka regrets the change of clothing only because she misses the sight of Helena’s shapely legs each night, but she is consoled that Helena still prefers to wear a thin camisole to sleep in.

“I can’t believe Tracy insisted on showing you every item of clothing, stuffed animal and baby blanket. I thought we’d never leave,” Myka shakes her head exasperated. After dinner at her parents, they had of course had to go to Tracy’s home to see the nursery. They’d spent much longer there than Myka anticipated they would. She had hoped to return home at a somewhat decent hour to at least get a few minutes of reading Helena’s novel before having to go to bed. Those hopes had been dashed the minute Tracy started pulling out the baby clothes. 

Helena smiles. “Tracy is understandably excited about the baby and I didn’t mind, Myka. I enjoyed it actually,” she says beginning to rub lotion onto her hands.

Myka has to admit, Helena did appear to enjoy looking over everything in the nursery, fingering the clothing and blankets with such care. 

“I need to go online to see if I can find something to add to the jungle theme of the nursery. I saw a giraffe lamp once in a catalog I think would go nicely,” Helena says shuffling under the covers.

“Tracy would love that. You were good with her tonight, with all of my family really, thank you.”

Helena turns on her side to face Myka. “There’s nothing to thank me for.”

“You had to endure a talk with my dad about your intentions towards me,” Myka huffs.

“I could have done without that,” she agrees. “But it wasn’t so terrible. Your father has your best interest at heart, I can understand that,” Helena replies. “And your mother, she more than made up for any discomfort the talk with your father may have spurred. The way she…embraced me into your family, Myka, I didn’t expect such affection so soon, but it felt good to have that from…a mother again.”

“Mom has always liked you,” Myka says squeezing Helena’s hand comfortingly. 

“I do think however, if we are to have dinner with your family again as your mother suggested, we should consider Saturday night rather than Sunday. We can always oversleep your seven-thirty grocery shopping schedule but I don’t think Artie will appreciate us coming to work late Monday morning if we should happen to oversleep.” 

“You don’t have to attend more family dinners, Helena. It’ll just be more of the same.” 

“And that’s a bad thing?”

“Isn’t it? Mom was great, but do you really want more personal questions from my Dad? Not to mention Tracy pestering us about a bridal shower and if we’re going to have children. Really, when you think about it, returning to London might be preferable to being subjected to more dinners with my family and all that comes along with that. I wouldn’t blame you if you’d prefer to call off the marriage right now.”

“Nonsense, you’re just being ridiculous now,” Helena rebuts sleepily, curling naturally into Myka’s side. “I adore your family.”

“Why?” Myka asks truly perplexed. 

“Because they’re part of you,” she says yawning, her eyes closing as she rests her head comfortably in the crook of Myka’s neck, breathing in the soft scent of her body lotion and sighing contentedly.

“Oh,” Myka breathes out. “Well,” she clears her throat of the unexpected emotion rising there. “They adore you too, you know.”

“I know,” Helena replies sleepily, and Myka would laugh at the matter of fact reply but stills instead as Helena’s head becomes heavier against her shoulder as sleep overtakes her.

Myka waits in the silence, feeling Helena’s steady breath against her neck, certain she’s asleep before she whispers, “And I adore you too.” She places a soft kiss against dark hair before closing her own eyes at last.


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> At least this update was quicker than the last. Thank you for your patience and thank you for reading!

Tracy calls Myka at work the following day startling her. Frantically she takes the call, thinking the worst. "Tracy? Is everything all right? Is it the baby?" she asks standing from her desk, ready to run out of her office at the slightest provocation.

"Relax, Myka, I'm fine," Tracy laughs.

"But you're calling me at work. You never call me at work," Myka says sitting back in her chair with a frown.

"That's not true - is it?" Tracy asks perplexed.

"Yeah it is. So if you're fine and the baby's fine, why are you calling now?"

"Dinner last night was fun, wasn't it?"

"Trace, if you're expecting to discuss last night's dinner in detail, I really don't have the time for that now, or the inclination," she says turning back to her computer to work. Last night's dinner was something she was resolutely not going to think about. Specifically she was not going to think about the way Helena kissed her – more than once – or the way Helena could touch her so casually and yet incite such…desire. Even now Myka could feel her face flush in remembrance, in longing. "I really am busy," Myka interrupts her own thoughts more forcefully than intended. "A client is expecting my call in less than ten minutes to go over the latest draft of their novel."

"Fine, fine," Tracy agrees. "We can talk about dinner at a later time, but I also called to ask a question. What color do you like best on Helena?"

"Blue," Myka answers distractedly turning back to her computer.

"No wonder you couldn't take your eyes off her last night in that pretty blue sweater she wore," Tracy teases with a laugh.

"Wait, what?" Myka sputters, tearing her gaze from the computer screen suddenly comprehending the oddness of the initial question. "I didn't stare at Helena all night," she protests, "and why are you asking about my favorite color on her anyway?"

"Oh, you so did too stare at her all night, not that I blame you, you newlywed you," Tracy teases. "As for my other question, no reason, just curious. We'll talk later okay? Love you, bye!" Tracy says hanging up before Myka has a chance to question her further.

Myka pulls the phone from her ear, frowning at it as if it is personally responsible for the odd question voiced that now leaves her with a feeling of unease. She doesn't take time to dwell on the feeling however as she begins dialing Rebecca St. Clair's number.

***

Helena sits in her office, her chair facing away from her desk, towards the window where she stares out unseeingly, too absorbed in remembrance of the night before spent with Myka's family. The way Jeannie, Tracy and Kevin openly embraced her into the family, even the way Warren accepted her after their tension-filled talk.

With a quick glance at her watch, she reaches for her cell phone. He should be home by now and she's put off the inevitable long enough. It's time she spoke with Charles to tell him of recent events.

"Helena, hello. It's been a while since you've called," he greets jovially. "How are things?"

"Hello, Charles. I'm sorry it's been a while, but truthfully, I've been distracted of late. I injured my back recently and have had to deal with that."

"Are you alright?" Charles asks concerned. "Nothing too serious I hope."

"No, no. The doctor assured I will have a full recovery - I've just been trying to take things easy for the time being."

"You take things easy? I can imagine how well that's going," he chuckles.

"Yes, well, I've been doing a better job of that since Myka has been taking care of me," Helena retorts.

"Myka's been taking care of you?"

"Yes, Charles, why must you turn everything I say into another question?" she sighs annoyed.

"I'm just trying to understand. Myka is a very good friend to take care of you while you're injured, I hope you realize that."

"Of course I do. Myka is my best friend and I'm extremely fortunate to have her in my life." Helena clears her throat nervously. "Myka is actually the reason why I've called you."

"Oh?"

"She and I…were married nearly two weeks ago," Helena says simply, waiting for some snarky response from Charles. It doesn't come. Helena waits several long breaths, clutching the ring she wears around her neck before asking quietly, "Charles, say something please?"

"You accused me of turning everything you say into a question. I'm trying valiantly at the moment not to do that and it's proving rather difficult. You and Myka are married," he states uncertainly.

"Yes."

"You know I'm full of questions about this development, Helena, not least of which why you didn't tell me you were dating, let alone getting married, so you might as well start explaining it to me."

"It's not what you think," she sighs. "I forgot to renew my work visa. Artie was more than eager to have me deported when I may have suggested to him that Myka and I were in a relationship and that we could just get married to keep me in the country."

"Go on," Charles prods.

"And Myka agreed to marry me to keep me here. We were married at the courthouse and after I injured my back later that night, she let me stay with her to look after me. A situation that has only been further complicated now that Immigration Services suspects our marriage to be a fraud, so now I'm slowly moving into Myka's apartment to keep up appearances that the marriage isn't a fraud."

Helena no sooner catches her breath at the explanation than she hears Charles burst into uproarious laughter.

Startled by his reaction at first, Helena begins to feel anger welling within her as his laughter shows no sign of subsiding. "What, _dear brother_ , is so amusing to you?" she scathes which only makes Charles' laughter increase.

"You, Helena," he finally manages to speak and Helena can only imagine the way he must be wiping tears from his eyes. "You are what is so amusing. The way you managed to marry the very woman you're in love with on a technicality is incredibly amusing to me."

"Charles, do be serious," Helena pleads, feeling her heart beginning to race within her chest at his statement.

"I am, Helena," his tone gentler, no trace of the earlier laughter. "I think we both know you've been in love with Myka for a long time despite your best attempts to deny it."

Helena is transported by his words to a moment when another made the same accusation.

_"You're in love with her, aren't you?" The question is voiced so softly and it's not really a question at all, but rather a resigned statement of fact._

_"She's not in love with me."_

_"That's not what I asked."_

_"Giselle, please…"_

Helena shakes her head, trying to clear her thoughts of that intrusive memory. "You're not the only one who has accused me of being in love with her," Helena finally answers him.

"Oh? Who…"

"It doesn't matter," Helena firmly interrupts.

"Alright then. I can't help but notice you're not denying what I've said. It's true, isn't it? You are in love with Myka, aren't you, darling?" he asks gentler now.

"Yes," she answers simply, the admission expelling from her lips with a heavy sigh. It's the first time she's ever admitted it aloud, given voice to this feeling that has churned within her for years.

"I thought as much," Charles says approvingly. "When I came to visit and met Myka, you practically took my head off over a little harmless flirting."

"You were leering at her!" Helena accuses with a cry.

"I'll have you know as a gentleman I don't leer," he says mocking offense. "And jealousy doesn't suit you, Helena. But why do I get the sense you're not enthusiastic about this admission?"

"Because nothing will ever come of it, Charles. I've been in love with Myka for years and nothing has come of it all this time so why would things change now that we just happen to be married?"

"Because you are married, Helena. Myka _married_ you. She didn't have to, but she did."

"To help a friend in need, nothing more."

"Are you certain about that?"

"Quite," Helena answers resolutely.

"Hmm. But you've never actually told her how you feel have you?"

"Not in so many words, no," Helena concedes.

"Well then, here's a thought – perhaps you should tell her how you feel _in so many words_ ," he suggests.

"Charles, I can't."

"Why ever not?"

"Because there is the very real likelihood she doesn't feel the same for me."

"Ah, now we're getting to the heart of the matter. The way things stand now in your friendship, you're comfortable. There's the uncertainty but hope that there could be more between you rather than finality and defeat if it turns out Myka doesn't return your affection, is that it?"

"In a word, yes."

"Helena, don't you think it would be better to know one way or the other? It could be that she does return your feelings and knowing she does would be so much better than only hoping so."

"And if she doesn't, what then?" Helena scoffs.

"Then you can move on – find someone else who will love you."

"I already tried that, Charles, it didn't work and I caused them pain for my efforts," Helena says softly. "Myka is the only one I want."

"Then tell her that. She deserves to know." When Helena doesn't answer, Charles continues. "Well then, perhaps I could have a little chat with her?"

"Absolutely not. I don't want you telling her anything we've just discussed, Charles."

"Give me some credit, Helena, I won't betray your confidence. I simply want to welcome Myka into the family. Or as your older brother, I could give her a stern talking to, question her about what's in it for her that she married you so suddenly to avoid your deportation."

"Please no, I just had the 'what are your intentions' talk with her father last night, I don't wish to subject her to that with you."

"Did you?" Charles chuckles. "I can imagine how well that went over with you."

"I could have done without it," Helena confirms, "but it wasn't too terrible and really he had every right to voice his concern on the matter. We did marry suddenly – especially since her family wasn't aware of any dating between us, which of course there wasn't any because Myka and I are only friends," she sighs heavily. "Anyway, by the end of our talk I think her father was mollified if not completely satisfied that I married Myka because I love her and not just to avoid deportation."

"Considering you do love her, it couldn't have been such a stretch to believe that."

"Yes, well, Mr. Bering eventually believed I was sincere in loving his daughter. And since you know the true circumstances for our marriage, there's no need for you to question Myka unnecessarily."

"Very well. But I would like to wish her well."

"I'll give her your regards, Charles. I'm at work now and I've already spent too much time away from it talking with you, but I did want to…make you aware of the situation and…just hear the sound of your voice I suppose," she says sentimentally.

"I miss you too, Helena, and I'm very glad you called to share everything with me. I'm overjoyed to learn I have another sister for however long it lasts and personally I hope to have Myka for a sister for a good long while."

"Thank you, Charles. She will be your sister for a few months anyway until we can clear things with Immigration Services. After that…who knows," she sighs.

"You're married now, Helena, the odds are in your favor. If Myka isn't already in love with you, I'd say with time and circumstances as they are it won't be long before she is," he says confidently.

Helena laughs in disbelief. "Oh, Charles, you're such a hopeless romantic."

"Hopeful romantic," he corrects. "And you forget, I've seen you and Myka together. That is a woman who is not indifferent to your charm, Helena. She cares for you deeply. Marrying you is a testament to that."

"Charles I already told you, she only did it to - "

"I know, help a friend in need. If that's what you truly believe, then let me ask you this. Do you think she would have married any of her other friends if they were in the same predicament as you are? Would you have married anyone other than Myka if they were in your position?"

The questions bring Helena up short to form a response. She's fairly certain she can answer both those questions with a resounding no and it's a startling revelation.

"That's what I thought," Charles gloats over her silent answer. "If that's not love, I don't know what is."

Helena clears her throat as she shifts in her chair, suddenly uncomfortable.

"Well, I know you're anxious to get back to work, Helena. Call me with any updates to your situation and give Myka my warm regards."

"I will," Helena finally finds her voice. "And thank you for listening, Charles. Our talk has been enlightening," she remarks wryly before hanging up.

Reclining in her chair to glance out the window, Helena is more uncertain about her relationship with Myka than ever.

***

That evening Helena settles onto the sofa with two bowls of ice cream, handing one over to Myka who barely glances up from Helena's manuscript she's reading to take it with a thankful smile.

"You've been reading that most of the evening, are you sure you wouldn't rather spend your leisure time reading something worth while?" Helena asks self-consciously.

The question causes Myka to look up from her reading, a spoonful of ice cream on her tongue. She quickly swallows it down. "Your writing is worth while. I'm enjoying the story so far."

"I still think you'd be better off reading something else," Helena argues, taking a bite of her own ice cream.

Myka just shakes her head at her with a lopsided grin before resuming reading.

Helena eats her ice cream silently glancing at Myka in between bites. "I have something to discuss with you, if you don't mind the interruption?" she begins hesitantly.

"What is it?" Myka asks setting the manuscript down.

"I called Charles today to tell him about us."

"To tell him…"

"That we're married, yes."

"Oh. Okay. How did he take the news?" Myka asks, her brow furrowing with worry.

Helena remembers his initial amusement, followed by a genuine heart to heart discussion. "Quite well actually. I told him the true circumstances for why we married, thinking it unlikely Abigail will question him about the validity of our marriage, and even if she does, Charles has a talent for talking around the truth."

"Okay," Myka repeats for lack of something better to say. "I guess it's good he knows then."

"Certainly it is. Charles will be an ally for us and it will be good for us to have someone who knows the truth of the situation."

Myka nods as she takes another spoonful of ice cream into her mouth. "And you're sure he wasn't upset by what you told him?"

Helena smiles at the worried frown on Myka's features. "Well, he did suggest having a chat with you – similar to the one I had with your father last night I imagine, but I quickly dispelled him of that notion," Helena laughs.

Myka laughs too. "Thanks for dissuading him - not that I wouldn't have talked to him, if he really wanted me to that is."

"He only wanted to give you a hard time, Myka, being the annoying older brother he is," Helena smiles. "Still, he did wish us well in our endeavor."

Myka simply nods, eating the remainder of her ice cream in thoughtful silence.

***

The following evening they receive a package addressed to both of them. Helena opens it with an odd sense of foreboding as Myka looks on curiously. Inside lies a dozen long-stemmed red roses, a bottle of champagne and a box of chocolate covered strawberries. Myka's eyes widen with surprise at the gifts looking to Helena for some explanation. It comes in the form of a small note that Helena knows even before reading who the culprit is behind such romantic gifts.

She reads the note silently, her heart beating frantically and a frown worrying her features.

"Helena? What is it?" Myka asks concerned. "Who sent all this?"

Helena doesn't answer with words, simply hands Myka the note. "Best wishes on your recent marriage. May it be a long and happy one. Love, Charles," she reads aloud. "I don't understand. I thought you said you told him the truth about us, about our marriage," Myka looks at her with uncertainty in her eyes.

"I did tell him the truth," Helena answers quietly remembering exactly what truth she revealed to Charles the day before. Ever the big brother, these gifts are his is his way of giving her a firm push to share that truth with Myka.

"Then why did he…"

"Because that's Charles for you, darling," Helena interrupts brightly. "He found our predicament amusing so no doubt he decided to give us these gifts on a lark."

Myka furrows her brow with concern. "This is a lot of money to spend just on a lark, don't you think?"

Helena shrugs feigning unconcern as she removes the lid from the box of strawberries. "Whatever Charles' motivation is, we might as well enjoy the benefits," she says offering the dessert to Myka who gingerly takes one between two fingers.

Myka studies the dessert a moment. "I've never had chocolate covered strawberries before."

"Really? Then I'm flattered your first time is with me," Helena lowers her voice seductively, smirking as she takes a generous bite of her own strawberry.

Myka quirks a brow at her, trying to ignore the fluttering in her stomach at Helena's suggestive words. "You know, I think you're a bad influence on me. Ever since we started living together I've eaten more sugar than I ever used to," she complains.

"And you love every minute of it. Go on, take a bite," Helena encourages with a laugh. "They're divine and you know you want to." She watches as Myka brings the fruit to her mouth, her lips closing over it to take a bite and really, the simple action should not be so…distracting. Myka closes her eyes in obvious pleasure emitting a soft moan and Helena feels her stomach pull at the sound.

"You're right, these are divine," Myka says opening her eyes to find Helena looking at her with lips slightly parted and her eyes wide. "Are you okay? You look a little flush," she says concerned.

"I'm fine," Helena quickly asserts.

Myka eyes her curiously. "You sure?"

"Ye…yes," and Helena hates that the word comes out sounding more like a question than a statement. She hurriedly finishes the rest of her strawberry aware that Myka is still watching her. "Actually I…I think I'll draw a bath, if that's alright?" she says setting the remaining box of strawberries in the fridge.

"A bath?" Myka asks confused by the topic change.

"Yes. It's been a long day, the muscles in my back feel a bit tense – I think a bath will help relax me," she explains as she begins to retreat from the kitchen.

"I could give you another massage if you want," Myka says, her brow furrowed with worry.

"No, no that won't be necessary. A bath will do," Helena responds, leaving the kitchen in haste. The last thing she can handle at the moment are Myka's hands on her.

***

Myka finishes her strawberry in silence, the pleasure of it diminished as she worries about the sudden change in Helena's demeanor; the way she went from carefree teasing one moment to apparent unease the next. Helena had been healing so well, her back causing her little trouble the last few days and though Myka knows it's possible she could suffer a relapse, the haste in which Helena left her alone leads Myka to wonder if discomfort in her back is the only thing bothering Helena – beyond the obvious, married to avoid deportation – now being investigated for fraud – all while lying to family and friends situation of course.

She mentally groans at the thought, filling a vase with water for the roses. It's a wonder neither of them have woken in the night in a cold sweat really. The one night she did wake up sweating had been for an entirely different reason with Helena's body entwined with hers. As much as Helena likes to tease Myka for her proclivity to cuddle, Helena is just as guilty and Myka had woken one night for feeling too hot and found Helena draped over her possessively. Unwilling to wake Helena, she'd laid awake just listening to the sound of Helena's breathing, feeling her warm breath against her skin until the rhythm of it finally allowed Myka to drift asleep once more.

Water overflows from the vase, stirring Myka from her reverie and she quickly turns off the tap. After placing the roses on the counter, Myka stows the bottle of champagne away in the fridge, lamenting if she and Helena will ever have reason to drink it for its intended purpose to celebrate a 'long and happy marriage' as Charles described.

***

Helena turns on the water for the bath, pouring in a healthy dose of vanilla scented bath salts, watching them dissolve as she gathers her hair into a messy bun. Stripping out of her clothing quickly, she submerges herself into the heated water before the tub is even full. She sits for a moment, watching the water pour from the tap, the sound of rushing water drowning out her traitorous thoughts for the moment.

Finally the tub is full enough and Helena lurches forward to turn off the tap, the resulting silence enveloping her. Leaning back against the tub she closes her eyes with a contended sigh, only to be presented with the image of Myka's face as she enjoyed that sweetened strawberry. Helena groans, wanting nothing more than for Myka to be with her in this bath; for them to touch and hold each other intimately. Helena groans again, opening her eyes to the bright light of the room, not allowing herself to indulge any longer in those dangerous thoughts. The whole purpose of escaping to this bath, and she knows she is using it as an escape, is to clear her thinking where Myka is concerned.

Charles' gift has forced to remind her of their conversation yesterday. And although she doesn't regret telling Charles the truth about being in love with Myka, she is still at a loss what to do about the situation she's in. It's becoming more difficult to live with the woman she's in love with and not reveal that love to Myka.

Helena sighs heavily, her wedding ring gleaming in the light as her fingertips swirl the water around her distractedly.

 _"She cares for you deeply. Marrying you is a testament to that,"_ Charles had said.

She recalls the question Charles posed about whether she or Myka would marry anyone else had they been faced with deportation. She knows with certainty Myka wouldn't have married another under the same circumstances. Myka and Pete are extremely good friends but if he'd been in Helena's position, threatened with deportation, she knows Myka would promise to keep in touch, even visit him in whatever far off land he would theoretically deport to. But she wouldn't marry him – and why? Because Myka doesn't care for Pete enough to risk the repercussions, possible criminal charges for him. But she has done just that for Helena and so much more. She's opened her home and family to Helena with little hesitation. And she's willing to continue the charade for as long as it takes, even knowing she's likely to endure so many unwanted questions from her family when the marriage is annulled.

Perhaps Charles isn't so far off the mark. Perhaps Myka does care for her more than as a friend. She recalls the way Myka brushed away the claims Helena made about that…Sam fellow being interested in her with disbelief. Myka is too modest, she doesn't realize how desirable she is. Perhaps Helena hasn't been as obvious in her regard for Myka as she thought herself to be.

Charles suggested she tell Myka outright how she feels. Helena can't quite bring herself to express her feelings so directly, especially without knowing if she is to receive a favorable response, but she can work harder to show Myka the love she feels for her and if Charles is correct that Myka feels more for her than friendship, she can hope that her efforts inspire Myka to reveal those feelings.

_"If Myka isn't already in love with you, I'd say with time and circumstances as they are it won't be long before she is."_

Sinking lower into the water, the thought occurs to Helena that Charles may be right. Circumstance is on her side. She's married to Myka and what's more, they have to convince Immigration Services that their marriage is a true, loving relationship.

That's it then. Helena knows now what she must do if there is any possibility of Myka falling in love with her. She must court her wife.

Helena smiles at the thought and she feels a warmth settle within her chest that feels like hope.

***

Just as Sunday mornings are for grocery shopping, Helena has learned that Wednesday evenings are designated for laundry. Helena isn't sure sitting in the apartment building's laundry room, waiting for her clothes to dry can be considered martial bliss, and yet Myka sits beside her absorbed in a novel, looking attractive as ever even with a stray curl falling into her eyes. Helena nearly lifts her hand to brush it aside but refrains. Myka does follow through on the action however, securing the curly strand behind her ear and Helena sighs at the sight.

Looking up from her book at the soft exhalation, Myka asks, "Everything okay?"

"Yes," Helena straightens in her chair under her gaze. "It just seems a shame to waste an evening doing nothing more exciting than laundry."

Myka grins at her complaint. "Too practical for you, huh?"

"It isn't that. It's just such a chore to have to wait for clothing to wash and dry."

"One more reason why I want a house," Myka agrees, "so that I can have my own washer and dryer so I can do other things and not worry that some other tenant is going to take my clothes if I don't stay to wait for them."

"Has that ever happened to you?"

"No, but I've heard stories. Besides the waiting isn't so bad if you use the time wisely, like for reading," she glances at Helena's own book that sits idle in her lap.

Helena looks at the novel too. She's hardly glanced at it since coming down to the laundry room, since she moved in with Myka to be more accurate, her mind wandering over a million different things it would seem, not least of which is her new wife.

Helena sighs again. "I suppose I'm just not in the mood for reading. We are newlyweds after all, it seems we should do something more pleasurable than laundry," she smirks.

Myka laughs, not allowing herself to consider what activity true newlyweds might do for pleasure. "There are still chocolate covered strawberries left and we have ice cream. After the laundry is finished I can dish us both some, maybe turn on a movie. Is that pleasurable enough for you?" she grins turning back to her book.

"I suppose it will suffice," Helena says with another longsuffering sigh as she sets down her novel to pull her laptop from its bag resting at her feet. Soon the soft clicking of typing rises above the gentle hum of the dryer, pulling Myka from her novel again to glance at Helena.

"Did you bring work home with you?"

"Not exactly," Helena shakes her head. "Abigail mentioned we may have to be interviewed by her agency if there is still any doubt of the validity of our marriage pending her examination of us. I thought it might be prudent to find out what kind of questions may be asked of us should that happen."

"And you think those questions will just be available online?" Myka asks skeptically.

"Well, perhaps not the exact questions we could be asked, but some variation of them," she shrugs. A few keystrokes later Helena grins triumphantly as she shows Myka a webpage listing marriage fraud interview questions in bold print. "As Claudia says, the internet knows everything."

Myka slips a bookmark between the pages of her book, resting her hands over it in her lap. "Okay, so what are the questions then?" she asks curious.

Helena scrolls through the first several questions on the list. "They seem fairly straight-forward actually. Where and when we met, what our common interests were at the time, describe our first date, and where we went on subsequent dates…"

"Dates? That's going to be a problem," Myka points out.

"I shouldn't think so."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, we can consider the first time we went to dinner as our first date. You remember we went to that little Italian restaurant downtown. You insisted on taking me to dinner to help welcome me to the city," Helena says brightly.

"Ugh, how could I forget?" Myka shakes her head with a laugh. "There I was trying to impress you with my knowledge of 19th century literature managing instead to embarrass myself by spilling marinara sauce on the front of my blouse."

"It was very little and as I recall we managed to get most of it out," Helena says smiling at the memory of a very flustered but endearing Myka.

"You managed to get most of it out thankfully," Myka sighs at the memory of that eventful evening. "As I recall, I was pretty helpless in the matter."

Myka recalls being so flustered about the situation, essentially making a fool of herself in front of the most intelligent and beautiful woman she'd ever known, her new coworker no less. She'd intended to excuse herself to the restroom to try to get the stain out, but Helena had been quicker, dipping her cloth napkin into her glass of ice water, shifting to Myka's side of the table so that she could dab at the stain, working it out of the blouse. With Helena so close and her attention focused on her task, Myka was given the opportunity to study the features of Helena's face without notice, to observe the delicate curve of her cheekbones, the paleness of her skin in direct contrast to dark eyelashes, and full red lips slightly parted as she focused on her task. The sight was breathtaking.

And when Helena's dark eyes finally looked up from their task to meet Myka's own, she couldn't contain or explain the quickening of her heart.

_"I'm sorry to get your blouse so damp, but the cold water should help keep the stain from setting before you're able to properly wash it," Helena explained. "I do hope the stain comes out as you look lovely in this blouse, it would be a shame not to see you wear it again."_

_Myka laughed self-consciously at the compliment. "Thanks to your quick reflexes I'd say it'll survive to be worn another day."_

_"Excellent," Helena's eyes glowed with approval. Leaning closer to whisper conspiratorially, "Now tell me, does this establishment serve cannoli?"_

_Myka smiled wide. "They do. Pete tells me it's the best he's ever had and coming from him, that's saying something. He often walks down here from the office on his lunch break just for the cannoli."_

_"Well, I'm glad to see that he has good taste in dessert at least. But what is your opinion on the matter?"_

_"I haven't actually tried it."_

_"What?"_

_"I don't eat sugar."_

_"Never?" Helena asked incredulous._

_Myka thought of the Twizzlers stashed in her desk at the office for those moments when she just craved some sweetness. "Well…I don't usually eat sugar," she amended_.

_"Could I possibly persuade you to try the cannoli with me?" Helena asked, her dark eyes gleaming in the soft light looking so hopeful._

_"I'd like that," Myka agreed._

_"Lovely," Helena smiled as she signaled for a waiter to order the dessert. Their conversation resumed, Helena not bothering to return to her side of the table opting instead to remain at Myka's side._

_The music playing in the background all evening, settling gently among the familiar sounds of a restaurant, the clinking of silverware and glasses and the hum of conversation, had been old classics from musicians of the forties and fifties. Myka had easily recognized the crooning of Frank Sinatra, Ella Fitzgerald and others throughout the night as a backdrop to their conversation. But as Helena's eyes continued to search hers, Myka heard the lyrics of the current song rise above the din of noise in the restaurant as if someone had muted the clinking dishware and conversations around them so that the songstress could sing only for them._

_When one is lonely, the days are long_  
_You seem so near, but never appear_

_The pure voice was familiar to Myka, she was certain she recognized it and yet with Helena still looking at her, talking to her, Myka was too distracted to give any thought to the name of the singer and so it remained elusive._

_Each night I sing you a lover's song_  
_Please try to hear, my dear, my dear_

_Someday I'll find you, moonlight behind you_  
_True to the dream, I am dreaming_

"Myka. Myka, where did you go?" Helena asks softly, observing the thoughtful look in Myka's eyes.

Myka blushes, thankful Helena can't read her thoughts to know how much that first dinner together has stayed with her so clearly in memory. She knows the singer now. The lyrics carried her home that night and she did a quick Internet search to find the elusive name. Doris Day. It was no wonder Myka knew that voice as familiar. Doris Day was one of her mother's favorite actresses and Myka must have seen at least a dozen of her movies while growing up. Now Myka has reason to love the singer even more as she'll always associate that song "Someday I'll Find You" with Helena.

"Sorry, I was just thinking of that first dinner together. About how memorable it was."

"It was indeed," Helena says still studying Myka's features. "Why were you trying to impress me?"

"What?" Myka startles.

"You said earlier you were trying to impress me that night, why?"

"Because…you know…" Myka rubs at her neck self-consciously, "you were you and…I was me."

"Whatever does that mean?" Helena asks amused but with a hint of annoyance.

"Just that you were this sophisticated, elegant, brilliant new editor and I was just me."

"Just you? Myka, did it ever occur to you that I looked at you with the same feeling of awe that you seem to have looked at me?"

"What? That can't possibly be true," Myka scoffs in dismissal.

"Why not?"

"Because…"

"And don't you dare repeat because I'm me and you're you," Helena warns, dark eyes flashing.

Myka swallows her words, remaining silent under Helena's stare.

Myka," Helena begins again, her voice gentle, "you give yourself far too little credit. You are the most remarkable person I know. I only wish you could see yourself the way I see you, the way I saw you that night and ever since."

"Mrs. Frederic personally recruited you to join the Endless Wonder. Is it any wonder why I was in awe of you?" Myka smiles. "You were already so highly regarded by her and it was obvious you knew your literature not to mention good at your job. I just wanted you to know that I was capable and could hold my own I guess."

"Oh, Myka I knew that the moment we met," Helena replies emphatically, recalling the way the striking green eyes had held her captive then and continue to do so now years later.

"You did?"

"Of course. Mrs. Frederic told me of the team I would be working with when she was trying to recruit me. You in particular she praised. Once I met you, I knew she wasn't exaggerating that praise."

Myka remains silent, uncertain what to say in response to that.

"And we've proven to make a good team, haven't we?"

"We have," Myka quickly agrees, unable to interpret the way Helena is looking at her now, dark eyes darting to her lips before quickly meeting her eyes once more as they sit close enough to touch. It wouldn't take much at all to lean forward into a kiss.

Myka is startled from her train of thought by the buzzing sound of the dryer choosing that exact moment to announce her clothes are dry. She's both relieved by the interruption and disappointed as she quickly rises from her chair, only to turn back to place her book upon the seat, aware that Helena is watching her every movement.

Myka focuses on removing her clothes from the dryer to place in the hamper, glad to have the distraction from thoughts of kissing Helena or the deluded thought that Helena would have kissed her. She begins folding a sheet, startling when Helena grasps the opposite end to help her. Silently their eyes meet as their hands work on folding the smooth fabric, Helena finally stepping closer with the material's final fold, clasping Myka's hand in hers as she lets go of the sheet to Myka's hold.

"Myka, it could work, couldn't it? We simply think of our first dinner together as our first date," she says returning to their original topic of discussion.

Setting the folded sheet back in the hamper, Myka pulls out a towel and begins folding it. "Fine, so we have the first date covered. What about the other dates we are supposed to have been on?"

The second dryer buzzes and Helena begins unloading her own clothes into a hamper. "Additional dates can be other dinners we've shared, the time we went to the ballet, our occasional Saturday outings to the art museum, the walks we've shared through the park after you've tried to get me to run with you to no avail," she smirks. Then there are the times you accompanied me to my kempo class, the nights spent listening to Claudia's band, and the nights just spent watching a movie in each other's apartments. I could go on," she says pointedly.

"Okay, but a lot of those activities we've done also included other people," Myka protests.

"No matter," Helena brushes off her factual statement. "I doubt we'll be asked specifically if anyone else was on those 'dates' so we just need to speak of them as actual dates rather than just friends spending time together."

Myka nods. "I guess that could work. Though I'm really hoping it doesn't come down to an interview."

"We'll just have to make sure it doesn't then," Helena says.

***

Laundry folded and sorted, the two women return to their apartment.

"So what are some other questions listed on the website?" Myka asks as they both sit on the sofa, bowls of ice cream in hand.

Helena opens her laptop to look at more questions. "Let's see here, they may ask each of us about the other's body piercings or tattoos. I know you have the one around your ankle you got while in college. Are there any others I may need to know about…in some hidden place perhaps?" she asks playfully, her eyes wandering and lingering over Myka's body before meeting her eyes once more.

"No, just the one," Myka says with a laugh. "You have your ears pierced. Any other piercings in hidden places _I_ should know about?" she counters in the same playful tone trying to ignore the heat she feels from the way Helena's dark eyes trailed over her.

"Wouldn't you like to know," Helena says, a Cheshire grin in place and her eyes challenging, causing Myka to choke on her ice cream.

"Umm," Myka at last manages to breathe, "Actually I think in this case I need to know. So do you…have any other piercings?" she asks, her throat suddenly dry.

Helena smiles wider. "Sadly no. I have considered piercing my navel but haven't actually gone through with it yet." And Helena's navel, pierced or not, is an image Myka really doesn't need at the moment.

"Oh, okay, good," Myka stutters, quickly forcing another spoonful of ice cream into her mouth before she makes more of a fool of herself.

Helena just smirks at her over her own bowl of ice cream. Answering such personal questions may turn out to be quite enlightening.

"I guess we don't know everything about each other like we should if we were really married. We should probably go over a few of the questions on the list every night…like a quiz," Myka says thinking logically.

"I agree. As well as we do know each other, it's obvious we still have much to learn. For instance, although I knew you fenced while you were in school – having noticed the various ribbons and trophies in your childhood bedroom that fateful Thanksgiving night," Helena smirks at Myka's annoyed huff – Helena will never let her live down that embarrassment - "I didn't have any idea that you ice skated until your mother mentioned it at dinner the other night."

"I didn't compete in ice skating. It was more of a hobby, just something I enjoyed when I had the time. It helped me think."

"Oh? Think of what exactly?"

"Schoolwork, relationships, that sort of thing. It was soothing to skate around a rink and it allowed my mind to slow down enough to work through whatever problem I was having at the time – it gave me perspective and that helped."

Helena tries to imagine Myka as a gangly teenager skating on ice – wondering if the awkwardness she sometimes exhibits on land turns to grace on the ice. "You'll have to take me sometime – I think I'd like to see what you're capable of on the ice," she smirks.

Myka laughs. "All I'm capable of is skating laps around a rink, maybe a few spins on occasion."

"Do you still skate?" Helena asks interested.

Myka shakes her head. "It's not that I don't want to – or need to sometimes," she laughs, "but it's a little harder these days to take the time to go to a rink. Now I usually go for a long run instead to help clear my thinking."

"I can understand that. I have my own method to sort through problems, though it's nothing so physical as yours. I tend to luxuriate in a warm bath, allowing the water and silence to soothe me enough to slow down and think more clearly."

Myka remembers the night before, the way Helena excused herself suddenly to take a bath and she wonders what problem she had to think through. "So last night was…"

"My way of sorting through a problem," Helena concedes finishing her ice cream and setting the bowl on the coffee table.

"What problem?"

Helena sighs, meeting Myka's worried gaze. "Charles' little gift last night served to remind me a bit more forcefully than I may have liked that we are supposed to show all appearances of being a married couple."

"Okay?" Myka says unsure where Helena's line of thinking is going.

"So I think we should date," Helena says, cringing at the way the words tumble from her mouth.

"Date?" Myka says feeling her heart quicken at the statement.

"Yes, well it occurred to me that to help sell our case…to appear truly married…that we should perhaps…date," she explains, her eyes darting to Myka's nervously.

"I see," Myka says, trying to sound casual without revealing the conflicting emotions of elation and regret that churn within her.

"I believe it's quite common for married couples to have date nights and seeing that we told Abigail we've only recently begun our romantic relationship, it makes sense that we would date, does it not?" Helena asks with bated breath.

"In that context, yeah…I suppose it would make sense to date," Myka agrees haltingly. "I mean, like you said, dating would reinforce our role as a married couple and could help convince Abigail our marriage isn't a fraud. It couldn't hurt," she finally says.

"Well then, now that's settled, how about a date this Friday night? I can take you to dinner and a movie – the epitome of the classic date night," Helena smirks.

"Moving a bit fast, aren't you, Wells?" Myka tries to tease.

"Bering-Wells, remember? And there's no time like the present, darling," she responds.

"Alright, it's a date," Myka agrees.

"Excellent," Helena enthuses, already looking forward to her date with Myka unabashedly.

***

"Pete, where are we going? I'm starved. Not to mention getting cold," Myka complains pulling at her coat collar as they walk along a city street of downtown Denver.

"Just a little bit further. My twitter feed says they're parked just a couple blocks away."

"Parked? Please don't tell me we're eating from a vehicle," Myka says annoyed.

"A taco truck, yeah," Pete rubs his hands together with gleeful anticipation.

"Absolutely not," Myka stops in her tracks. "I refuse to eat anything prepared on four wheels."

"Technically I think these kind of trucks have six wheels, but you'll be happy to know the wheels don't have anything to do with the quality of the food."

"Peeete," she whines.

"Ah, come on, Mykes, it's my turn to choose where we have lunch and the reviews on this truck are off the charts. Besides, where's your sense of adventure? It'll be good for you to step outside of your limited culinary world."

"My limited culinary world that consists of fine dining, you mean?"

"Yeah, exactly," he answers ignoring her sarcasm.

"Fine," she mutters falling back into step beside him.

They finally walk within sight of the taco truck and it boasts a long line of customers. "What'd I tell you?" Pete grins at her. "The food has to be good with a line that long."

He practically skips to the line and though Myka drags her feet behind him, she can't quite quell the smile that breaks out on her face at his exuberance. There is no love affair equal to that of Pete and food she thinks with a shake of curly tresses.

The line moves along impressively fast and before they know it, they are sharing a bench in the midst of the downtown scene. Pete wolfs down his beef burrito in a matter of minutes and is already noisily sucking the last drops of his soda through a straw while Myka still works on her chicken taco – which isn't half bad – not that she'll admit it to Pete.

Stomach sated for the moment, food is no longer on the forefront of Pete's mind as he shifts in his seat, drawing the straw up and down noisily through the plastic lid of his empty cup, creating the annoying sound repeatedly.

Myka knows having lunch together isn't the only reason Pete asked her to come out here today. Almost as soon as he arrived in the office this morning he had come to her asking to discuss something over lunch. He'd been unusually serious in his request that Myka didn't hesitate to accept, wondering all morning what he wanted to talk about. It seems she is about to find out, if he stops fiddling with the straw long enough to tell her.

"Pete," she says pointedly glaring at his hands that are restlessly moving the straw through the lid.

"Sorry," he says setting the cup down on the bench and brushing crumbs from his jacket instead.

"So what is it you wanted to talk with me about?" Myka asks in between bites.

"Marriage," Pete answers soberly causing Myka to choke on her taco.

"What?" she coughs out, her eyes wide with panic that Pete has somehow managed to find out about her marriage to Helena. Her hand falls to her neck, fingers searching out the carefully concealed chain that carries her wedding ring. She, they, had been so careful to make sure no one at work would find out about their marriage. How could Pete possibly know?

"Yeah. Ever since that night in your apartment, the way we talked about marriage, kids, I haven't been able to get it off my mind."

"What exactly has been on your mind?" she asks carefully, trying to sound calm.

"I love Amanda, Mykes, and I want to marry her, but I…I just don't know…"

Myka breathes out a sigh of relief, nearly laughing aloud with it. Pete doesn't know her secret. He's worried about his own marriage prospect. Removing her hand from her neck, she tears at the wrapper around what's left of her taco. "What don't you know, Pete?" she asks taking another generous bite.

"I don't know what she'll say," he admits so uncertain it tugs at Myka's heart. "I know she loves me, so I think she'd say yes, but there's still that doubt, you know?"

"Hey, Pete," she says softly, reaching out a hand to grasp his shoulder soothingly. "You and Amanda have been together for years. I think if she didn't want to be with you, she would have left years ago when she learned of your unhealthy obsession for cookies," she teases.

"Hey, hey, hey," he tries to complain but the goofy grin that overtakes his face belies his true feelings on the matter.

"You're thinking about cookies right now, aren't you?" Myka smirks knowingly.

"Yeah," he grins. "We should stop and get a dozen or so on our way back… you know, to share with the office."

"Sure, for the office," Myka shakes her head fondly at him.

"Seriously though, marriage…it's big, Mykes. Things between Amanda and I are really good now. What if marriage changes that?"

"It shouldn't," Myka speaks confidently. "If you love each other, a piece of paper and a ring aren't going to make a bit of difference."

"A ring!" he snaps his fingers animatedly. "That's another reason I wanted you to come to lunch with me today. There's a jewelry store not far from here – I thought you could go with me to scope it out."

"Oh, Pete," Myka startles, her panic beginning to rise at the knowledge the store Pete speaks of is the very same one she and Helena bought their rings from. "I really wouldn't be much help. I don't know what Amanda likes."

"I do - well I have an idea anyway. I just want to look – see what they've got, what their prices are, you know shop around a little before making a final decision."

Myka looks at him surprised and a little impressed.

"I know, who knew I could be so responsible, right?" he jokes. "I just don't want to mess this up, not for Amanda."

"You won't, Pete," she assures.

"So you'll go with me?"

"Yeah," Myka sighs rising from the bench and holding out her hand to Pete who takes it gratefully. "Let's go find your girl a ring," she smiles.

***

What seemed like a good, supportive idea moments ago, doesn't seem so anymore as Myka and Pete approach the little jewelry store she and Helena visited just two weeks ago.

"You know, there's another store further downtown that I think has a better selection than this one, Pete. Wouldn't you rather go there to see what they have?"

"Nah, Mykes, I'm just looking today anyway. Just want to get a feel of what kind of rings are available."

Myka feels her panic rising again. But maybe she'll be lucky and Deb won't be working today. Stepping inside the small shop, Myka quickly searches for any sight of the saleswoman. Satisfied Deb doesn't appear to be working today, Myka easily follows Pete to a counter to look at rings.

Pete whistles at all the jewelry on display. "Who knew there were so many different rings to choose from?"

Myka laughs. "I know."

"Hello there. May I help you find something?" comes a familiar voice from behind them. A voice Myka knows belongs to Deb and she isn't disappointed when she turns to be greeted by the woman's smiling face.

For a brief moment, Myka hopes she hasn't been recognized, but that hope is soon dashed as Deb's smile widens in recognition. "Myka, right? How are you? And how is your lovely wife?" she asks interestedly.

Pete laughs, shaking his head fervently. "I think you're mistaking Myka for someone else, she's not married."

Deb looks back at Myka. "No, I'm sure I'm right. I never forget my customers, and Myka came into the store two weeks ago with her beautiful bride to be, Helena to purchase wedding rings. That was your plan, wasn't it?" she asks, her smile fading to concern.

Palming her neck, Myka silently nods, hesitant to look at Pete.

"Wait a minute, I thought you said you and HG aren't dating," Pete says, his voice rising in confusion and disbelief.

"Technically I'm not dating her, Pete…because I'm married to her," she admits, biting her lip in anticipation of his reaction.

Pete looks at her baffled, trying to understand the admission. "It's true? You really are _married_ …to _HG_?"

Myka lets out a short burst of nervous laughter. "Surprise," she says slipping the chain from around her neck to show the wedding ring.

Pete's eyes widen in shock. "You got married and you didn't tell me?"

"I'll just give you two a moment," Deb interrupts, giving Myka an apologetic look before hastily retreating.

"Pete, you have to understand, it was sort of a spur of the moment decision.

"Spur of the moment?" he raises his brow in disbelief.

"She was going to be deported, Pete. I couldn't let that happen," she answers softly.

"Deported? Why?"

"She forgot to renew her work visa. And Helena and I…we wanted to keep the marriage just between us, at least for a little while. Our…romantic relationship is still so new to us."

Pete's brow rises higher at the statement. "You love her, don't you, Mykes?"

"Of course I love her. I have for a long time," she admits quietly, clear green eyes meeting his briefly before looking away.

Pete nods, accepting her answer. "And HG, she loves you, right?"

Myka bites at her lip, contemplating a truthful answer. "She married me, didn't she?" she answers without meeting his eyes.

"And when exactly were you planning to tell me you got married?"

Never, if things had gone according to plan, Myka thinks. "We hadn't decided when would be a good time to tell you," she tries to explain watching helplessly as Pete turns for the door. "Where are you going?"

"To have a little chat with HG."

"Oh, god," Myka mutters hurrying after him.

***

Pete strides through the office with purpose, making his way to HG's office, Myka fast on his heels aware of the stares of Claudia, Leena and Steve.

"Where's the fire?" Claudia cracks.

Myka offers a weak smile in return but says nothing, more focused on Pete and what he intends to say to Helena.

"HG, you got some 'splaining to do," he calls out as he storms into her office, removing his coat and tossing it onto an empty chair. Myka quickly closes the door behind her and slowly removes her own coat, knowing Pete plans to stay awhile and she might as make herself comfortable.

Helena stands from behind her desk at his entrance. "I beg your pardon? What pray tell am I supposed to explain to you exactly?" she asks scornfully.

"He found out we're married, Helena."

"Oh? And how did this come about?" she looks at Myka for an explanation.

"Pete wanted to look at rings for Amanda and we went to the same shop you and I went to. The saleswoman remembered me and it sort of spilled out from there," Myka quickly explains, rubbing at her neck in agitation.

"I see," Helena says with a soft look for Myka. "Well then, yes, Pete, Myka and I are married. I fail to see what else needs to be explained."

"Fail to see what needs to be explained?" he echoes incredulous. "How about how, when, where and most important, why I wasn't told that you got married!" he shouts.

"You got _married!_ " Claudia exclaims as she falls through the door she had been listening behind, Steve and Leena with her.

"Lovely," Helena mutters dryly and Myka closes her eyes as if in pain. "Thank you, Pete, for announcing our nuptials to the world before we were ready to announce it ourselves."

"Is it true? You guys are actually married?" Claudia squeals.

"Yeah, Claud, we are," Myka answers her with a weak smile, removing the chain from under her blouse to show the wedding ring dangling from it. Claudia looks to Helena who mirrors the gesture, pulling out her own ring.

"This is so awesome! I knew there was something going on between you!" Claudia says enveloping first Myka and then HG into a rib-shattering hug, oblivious to the apprehensive look Myka and Helena share between them.

"When did this come about?" Leena asks with a wide smile as she also takes her turn hugging each woman.

"Two weeks ago today," Myka says with a quick glance at Helena.

"But why didn't you say something?" Steve asks taking his turn hugging each woman. "Why the secrecy? You know we've all been rooting for you to get together."

"Have you?" Helena asks slightly breathless.

"Well yeah," Steve laughs, "the way you two look at each other…"

"It was inevitable," Leena finishes with a wide smile.

"But why keep your relationship secret?" Claudia picks up Steve's inquiry.

"That's what I'd like to know," Pete says, arms folded across his chest as he turns to look at the married couple, the expression on his face asking for an explanation.

Myka clutches at her ring, aware that Helena beside her is doing the same. "Pete, I thought I explained this to you," she pleads quietly.

"You said you got married because HG was going to be deported."

"That's not all I said," Myka glares at him.

"Wait, what? You're going to be deported, HG?" Claudia sputters.

Helena shoots Pete a withering stare before addressing Claudia. "Hopefully not. I forgot to renew my work visa, so yes, deportation was a threat, but Myka and I decided to marry to avoid that."

"I really hope that's not the only reason you got married," Pete says looking directly at HG.

"Of course it wasn't," she snaps at him. Linking her hand with Myka's she looks into uncertain green eyes, squeezing her hand in reassurance. Turning to the group she goes on. "The fact is, our relationship…our _romantic_ relationship was – and is still very new to us when we realized I might be deported. Unwilling to be parted, we decided to get married and so we are technically still in the stage of dating even though we happen to live together now.

"And as you may realize, it's a delicate situation that Myka and I are trying to navigate, one that has only been made more difficult since Immigration Services is in the process of investigating our marriage for fraud."

"What? Now way!" Claudia shakes her head. "Can't they see how hot you are for each other?"

Myka blushes at the declaration, avoiding Helena's eyes. Clearing her throat she says, "The investigation is another reason we kept the marriage secret. We didn't want any of you to be involved."

"Why not? We could help," Pete says.

Helena arches a brow. "Says the man who just announced our secret marriage to everyone in the office."

"Hey, I didn't announce it to everyone. Artie doesn't know," he defends.

"Artie doesn't know what?" asks the man himself from the open doorway, Mrs. Frederic standing beside him looking at the little group inside Helena's office curiously.

"Oh, hey, Artie, Mrs. F.," Pete grins. "We were just…having a meeting."

"Yes, I can see that. It seems every time I turn my back you're all in the midst of some meeting rather than working," Artie barks. "But what don't I know?"

Myka sighs. "That Helena and I are married."

"Oh that. Of course I know that."

"What? You told Artie before you told me?" Pete says hurt.

"I know as well," Mrs. Frederic says.

"And Mrs. F.!"

"As HG's employer, who do you think raised the issue of her imminent deportation to begin with?" Artie asks. "Her departure would have had a…certain impact on the office," he sighs.

Helena glares at him, interpreting the sigh as wistful one for a missed opportunity as far as he is concerned.

"Helena is a valuable member of this team," Mrs. Frederic says with a pointed look at Artie who straightens under it. "And I was pleased to know there was so simple a solution for keeping her here in marrying the woman she loves. I'm only sorry for your sake," she says looking at both women, "that things had to be so rushed for you. That you didn't have time to plan a wedding you wanted with family and friends in attendance."

Myka laughs nervously. "The elopement suited me fine. I've never been one for big weddings."

"Nor I. Given the opportunity, I can't say that I would have changed anything about our marriage ceremony," Helena says honestly with a soft look at Myka. "Myka was there, that's all that mattered."

"Oh, that's so romantic," Leena sighs, a hand clutched at her heart. "Now that we do know you're married, there's no need to hide your rings anymore. You can wear them," she encourages, seeing that Helena still clutches at hers.

"Ooh, you should exchange them now," Pete enthuses. "We'll have an impromptu wedding ceremony right here."

"Is that really necessary?" Myka asks with a hand at her stomach trying to settle the fluttering there.

"Ah, come on, Mykes. You're already married, it's not like it's a big deal. You don't have to say vows or anything, just exchange rings."

Except Myka knows very well it's not going to be just an exchange of rings. Their friends are going to expect a kiss at the end of the exchange. Myka looks around the room at all the hopeful faces. Leena, Steve and Claudia grinning at her. Even Artie and Mrs. Frederic are still there, waiting expectantly. Myka turns to look at Helena who answers her with a sympathetic smile.

"We might as well give them what they want, darling," Helena says resigned, sweeping her hair to one side and turning her back to Myka with obvious intent.

Myka steps forward as if in a daze to unclasp the chain from Helena's neck. Never having removed an article of jewelry from someone, she's hesitant as she reaches for the chain adorning Helena's neck. She's struck by just how intimate the gesture is, keenly aware of Helena's soft scent and softer skin under her fingertips. She's also well aware of the stares of her coworkers. If she and Helena had been alone and an actual couple, she can envision dropping a kiss to the back of Helena's neck before removing the necklace. Instead, her fingers tremble and she fumbles with the clasp before finally removing it. And it's awkward removing the chain from Helena's neck to slip the ring off into her hand. She doesn't know what to do with the chain, but Helena takes it from her, setting it on her desk before offering her left hand to Myka.

Taking Helena's hand in hers, Myka easily slips the ring onto her finger just as she did at the ceremony two weeks ago.

Helena smiles at her as if she's done something perfectly right and then she's telling her, "Your turn, darling."

Myka begins to reach for her necklace but Helena halts her progress with a hand on her arm. "Allow me?"

Breathing deeply, Myka turns around, feeling Helena gently gather her hair to move it over one shoulder before reaching for the clasp on her necklace. Helena's fingers are warm against her skin but Myka shudders at her touch as she unclasps the chain with ease, carefully removing it from Myka's neck.

Helena places the chain beside her own on the desk and then she's taking Myka's hand in hers, a hand that is shaking noticeably more than it did two weeks ago, to slip the ring onto her finger. Helena can't account for why Myka should appear more nervous now than two weeks ago, but Myka can. Two weeks ago Myka didn't realize she was in love with Helena until the moment they shared a kiss. Now she knows and more than that, she knows all that she could lose if they don't make this marriage work. Not to mention now they have their friends as an audience.

For a long moment they stand staring into each other's eyes, searching, waiting.

And then Pete's impatient shout of, "Kiss the bride already!" works like a jumping off shot in a race and they are in each other's arms.

Myka will never know who took the first step forward to initiate the kiss, she only knows that she and Helena are kissing, her palm lying gently against Helena's cheek and Helena's lips pressed to hers in an achingly sweet kiss. A kiss that is unhurried and tender, that Myka would love nothing more than to get lost in, but that is broken by the wolf whistle Pete is making and the applause and laughter of everyone else. And as Myka regretfully pulls back from the kiss, the look in Helena's eyes makes her think Helena feels the same regret in pulling away. She's almost positive of it when Helena moves forward again to place a lingering kiss at the corner of Myka's mouth, offering a soft smile before pulling away entirely.

"Now that we've gotten that Hallmark moment out of the way, perhaps you could all return to work?" Artie drawls.

"Oh, Arthur, let them have their moment," Mrs. Frederic admonishes. Stepping towards the newlyweds she give them both a hearty handshake. "Congratulations, ladies. I'm so pleased to know how well things have worked out for you both. Be sure to take some time away from work to have a proper honeymoon," she smiles kindly.

"Thank you, Mrs. Frederic," Helena says. "We'll have to work that into our schedule somehow."

"See that you do," Mrs. Frederic orders, retreating from the office with Artie following after her.

Myka and Helena look at each other bashfully. A honeymoon is just one more aspect of the newly married experience they'll have to consider to keep up appearances.

"Are you happy, Mykes?" Pete asks.

Myka looks at Helena, this intelligent, stunningly beautiful woman whom by some twist of fate she has found herself married to and she reflects on the last two weeks of their married life together. She recalls the hurried mornings taking turns with the shower, the rushed breakfasts and lingering dinners, the playful banter and thoughtful discussions. They've spent quiet moments reading side-by-side or cuddled close to watch movies. They've shared so much of each other in these last two weeks, things they didn't know before – Helena's aspirations as a writer, Myka's desire for a home. Through all of this they've shared laughter and stories, fears and dreams. And every night they share a bed and talk before sleep and in the morning they awake in each other's arms.

And because of all they have shared, with a fond look at Helena, Myka can honestly answer, "Yeah, Pete, I am."

"Then that's good enough for me," he says moving to embrace HG in a hug, lifting her from the floor much to her annoyance.

"Pete, I am not some ragdoll to be carried around, put me down," she insists.

"Geeze, okay, okay. Keep your panties on. At least until you and Myka are alone," he smirks at them.

"Pete!" Myka scolds, punching his shoulder hard as heat suffuses her cheeks at the insinuation and the laughter that follows his words from Claudia, Leena and Steve.

"What? I'm just saying. You are newlyweds after all - I know you want to get your groove on."

"My groove…what…you don't…you know what…never mind, I don't even want to know what you're talking about," Myka stutters.

Pete catches Helena's amused smirk at both his words and Myka's reaction. "HG knows what I'm talking about, right?"

"I pride myself on generally not knowing what you're talking about, Pete," she answers drily.

"Okay, now that's just rude," he complains.

"We really should celebrate your wedding in some way," Leena gushes, effectively quelling any further argument.

"Oh yeah, par-tay," Claudia agrees. "What about a bachelorette party?"

"They're already married, Claudia," Steve shakes his head. "Maybe a reception?"

"That's just a fancy way of saying dinner, right?" Claudia shakes her head dubiously.

"We should give you a bridal shower," Leena says brightly. "I know traditionally they're given before a wedding, but I don't see why we couldn't give you one after."

"Yeah, you should really talk to my sister," Myka says with a resigned sigh.

"Man, I wish we had cake," Pete says. "Cake is a good way to celebrate anything. I wanted to stop for cookies on the way back from lunch. If I wasn't so surprised by this wedding news we could have had those to celebrate with. You owe me cookies, HG," he accuses.

"Who are you kidding, Pete? You'd finish the box before you even got to the office," Claudia says.

"Hey, the bakery's not far from here, there might have been some left to share."

"I'll never understand your logic, Pete," Helena says stepping closer to the childish man who takes a corresponding step backward, raising his arms in surrender. "You blabbed information Myka and I wanted to reveal in our own time and yet somehow I owe you cookies?"

"Yeah okay, no cookies," he shakes his head. "I can see that if anyone owes anyone something, it's me owing the both of you. So what can I do to make it up to you? Name it and I'll do it."

"How do you feel about moving bookshelves?" Myka asks him seriously.

***

"I'm going to die," Myka groans from the tiled floor of the bathroom hours later.

"I assure you, you're not," Helena replies calmly, dabbing at Myka's brow with a wet cloth.

"I told Pete I didn't want to eat from that taco truck but he insisted it would be fine. And I listened to him! Now I have food poisoning!"

"I'm so sorry, darling," Helena tries to soothe. "What can I do for you?"

"Tell me Pete is sick too?" she asks hopefully but her hopes are dashed when Helena shakes her head. "He isn't?"

"Afraid not. I spoke with Amanda, and he appears to be his normal, charming self," she answers sarcastically.

"Ugh! Maybe it isn't food poisoning then. Maybe I have the flu. Oh, Helena, you should get away from me if it's the flu," Myka says upset. "I don't want you to catch it too."

"Shh, it's not the flu," Helena replies gently brushing the wet cloth along Myka's flushed face, attempting to cool her down.

"But Pete…"

"You know Pete's stomach is made of steel. I'm quite certain that man could swallow down gunpowder and a lighted match and he'd only complain of slight heartburn."

"But…"

"And if it does turn out to be the flu, I'll risk it," Helena interrupts Myka's argument. "I'm not leaving you in this state," she says brushing sweaty curls from Myka's pale face. "Now, I think your need for these facilities has finally expired, shall we get you moved into bed?"

Myka nods weakly, relying on Helena to help lift her from the floor. "I swear I'm going to strangle Pete for this."

"Then you'll have to get in line. I was already planning his demise based on his loud mouth announcing our marriage so that all the office now knows of our nuptials."

"I know, it was horrible. Now we have to fool our friends too," Myka says sitting on the bed heavily, a shiver running through her quickly chilling body.

"Darling, your t-shirt is soiled," Helena says noticing dark stains that dot the shirt from sweating. "I think you had better change into something clean before sleep," she says moving to the closet to pull out a fresh t-shirt.

Continuing the discussion, Helena says, "Pete and everyone else seemed quite favorable to our marriage, so I don't think fooling them as you put it will be so difficult."

"But we're lying to them," Myka blinks tiredly as Helena returns to her with a clean t-shirt in hand.

"Is it a lie that we care for each other?" Helena asks softly.

"No, of course not, Helena. I just don't like misleading them."

"Nor I, but let's take things a day at a time, shall we? And our first order of business tonight is to get you to feeling better." Helena notices the way Myka can hardly keep her eyes open, appearing ready to fall asleep at any moment. "Do you need me to help you change?" she asks slightly discomforted at the thought.

Too exhausted to care about undressing in front of Helena, Myka simply reaches for the hem of her shirt, bringing it up over her head and uncharacteristically lets it fall in a heap on the floor.

Helena tries to keep her eyes from wandering, focusing her attention on folding up the shirt to place it easily over Myka's head. But as she helps guide her arms through the sleeves, she can't help noticing the expanse of skin on display and she purses her lip to keep any inappropriate sound from escaping at the sight of Myka clad in a simple black bra. She quickly pulls the t-shirt down to cover smooth skin, trying to ignore the flush of her own skin.

Myka reaches under her shirt to remove her bra and lets that fall to the floor also before allowing Helena to help guide her under the covers, pulling the duvet over her shoulders.

"Alright?" Helena asks tenderly brushing a curl from Myka's face.

"Yeah," Myka exhales, her eyes closing.

"There's water here on the nightstand for you and some ginger ale to help settle your stomach," Helena says picking up Myka's shirt and bra from the floor and depositing them in a hamper.

"Thank you for staying with me through this – you didn't have to," Myka says weakly.

"Nonsense," Helena responds returning to the bedside, caressing Myka's flushed cheek. "I made you a promise. For better or worse, remember?"

Myka smiles tiredly. "Except we never actually said those words – in either ceremony," she says thinking of the unexpected and brief ceremony they had in Helena's office that afternoon.

"No we didn't," Helena agrees, "but as you once pointed out, the promise was implied and now it's my turn to honor that promise made."

"Mmm," is the only response Myka manages, her eyes drifting closed.

Helena gently strokes Myka's hair, listening for the moment Myka's breathing evens out and sleep at last overtakes her. Only then does Helena lean forward to brush a kiss against Myka's cheek. "Sleep well, love," she whispers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Someday I'll Find You" lyrics by Noel Coward


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again, I apologize for the long length of time between updates. I've been working on this chapter for what seems like forever and have finally, finally reached a point where I'm satisfied enough with it to let it go. I have every intention of finishing this story, it just may take longer than we'd all prefer. Good news though, I've set a word count goal for myself to meet every day and have managed to do so for the last month and a half, so that's progress. Thank you to all those still interested in the story and still reading, it means more than I can say.

“Myka, are you certain you don’t need me to stay with you?” Helena asks from the kitchen, voice full of concern.

“There’s really no need for you to stay,” Myka answers, nestled in a corner of the sofa, a blanket draped over her as she reclines against a pillow. “You’ve already done more than enough and I’m probably just going to fall asleep again anyway.” It had been a long night - for both of them really. Despite having fallen asleep after the initial illness, there had been another bout during the night and Helena had been right there beside her to help gather her hair from her face and provide a soothing touch. She hates that Helena saw her in such a state, but she’s also grateful for her obvious support. “Of course if you’re tired too, you should stay home.”

Helena laughs as she walks into the living room carrying a small plate and a mug. “I admit I am a little tired but it’s nothing a strong cup of tea won’t cure,” she says taking a sip from the mug. “Then again the thought of taking a mid-morning nap beside you is quite appealing.”

Myka finds that thought appealing as well, too much so. She thinks of the way they would curl into each other under warm blankets, the autumn sunshine casting a soft light about the room as they dream. 

“I thought perhaps a light breakfast might be good for you this morning,” Helena says offering the plate to Myka, interrupting her train of thought. 

On the plate are two slices of lightly buttered toast sprinkled with cinnamon and sugar. Myka smiles wide, glancing at Helena in surprise. “I loved this as a kid. My mom used to make it for me and Tracy whenever we didn’t feel well. How did you know?”

“You mentioned it once,” Helena shrugs, sipping at her tea.

“And you remembered?”

“You’re not the only one with a good memory. And where you’re concerned I doubt there is anything I don’t remember, Myka,” she says softly. “Besides, I added it to my mental list of sugary treats you enjoy despite your claim that you don’t eat sugar,” she smirks.

Myka ignores the tease as she takes a small bite, smiling at the flavor of the sweetened toast. “Okay, I may like the idea of not eating sugar more than the actual practice of it. I do eat sugar, but only in moderation - at least I did until you moved in,” she teases back.

“Ah, well, as long as you admit it,” Helena laughs. “How does this sugary treat taste to you?”

“Amazing,” Myka sighs, taking another bite, this one more generous than the last now convinced her stomach can handle it.

“Good,” Helena smiles satisfied. “I meant what I said earlier, I’d be happy to stay home with you if you need me to. I’m already an hour late for work,” she says glancing at her watch. “What’s another seven or eight after all?”

Myka laughs. “I’m not sure Artie would see it that way.”

“Oh, Artie,” Helena dismisses. “That man needs to understand there’s more to life than work. And it’s not as if either of us miss much work anyway. Aside from my little mishap two weeks ago and now your illness, we’ve probably both only missed a handful of days throughout the entire year.”

“Yes, but now here we are, both missing a day in the two weeks since we’ve been married. Artie probably thinks the coincidence is astounding.”

“Well, he can hardly fault us for an accident and illness. It’s not as if we’ve even taken time off for a proper honeymoon as we should. He should be grateful.” 

“A honeymoon?” Myka chokes. “You’re not serious?”

“Why not? Mrs. Frederic did tell us to make time for one,” Helena reminds. 

“I know but…I mean…” Myka trails off. 

“You’re right, I suppose it would be better to go on our first date as we agreed before deciding on honeymoon destinations,” Helena smirks.

“Something like that, yeah,” Myka breathes relieved Helena was only teasing. “But about tonight, I’m not sure I’ll be up for going out on the town like we originally planned to do.”

“Of course, I realize that. I thought instead I’d bring dinner home; we can stay in and curl up on the sofa as we watch a movie. How does that appeal to you?”

Myka smiles. “I’d like that. And you choose the movie.”

“Mmm, I’ll have to give that some thought. Preferably something you haven’t already seen…”

“And something you love,” Myka insists. 

“Alright. And speaking of movies one loves, I’ve put _Alice in Wonderland_ in the DVD player for you to watch at your leisure.”

Myka’s eyes widen and she shakes her head with a laugh. Her favorite childhood movie. “You remembered that too?”

“As I said, anything that pertains to you, I remember.”

Myka is at a loss what to say, instead finishing her toast in silence.

“Well, I must be off then if I intend to get any work done today,” Helena says rising from the sofa and taking Myka’s empty plate to the kitchen. “I meant what I said, if you should need me for anything, don’t hesitate to call me,” she says, slipping into her coat.

“I will,” Myka nods appreciatively. 

“Alright then. I’ll call later to check on you,” Helena says, bending over Myka to place a soft kiss against her cheek. Pulling back, dark eyes gaze at her thoughtfully and Helena whispers, “Feel better, darling.”

Once again left speechless, Myka helplessly watches Helena fit her bag over her shoulder and with a parting smile walks out of the apartment.

Sinking lower into the sofa, her head resting against a pillow Myka brushes her fingers against her cheek where Helena kissed her, wondering the reason behind the all too brief kiss. There was no reason for it. No one watching to try to convince that their relationship is real. No judge and witness as there was at their marriage ceremony two weeks ago. No family members as with their visit home last weekend and no friends and coworkers present during an impromptu marriage ceremony the way there was yesterday. And oh god, that kiss yesterday in Helena’s office - she hadn’t had much time to process it before becoming ill, but remembering it now - it had been soft and tender and would have been perfect if not for the fact it was done for an audience. And if Pete hadn’t startled them both, it may have lingered longer than it did. Myka sighs regretfully at that thought. But Helena did just kiss her now - with no one watching. That had to mean something right?

She smiles at the thought and sinks further down into the pillow only to feel the unyielding firmness of the armrest under her head. Unable to rest comfortably and deciding a second pillow will help; she stands from the sofa to retrieve an extra one from the hall closet. She finds the pillow but also finds a reminder of why it doesn’t do her any good to hope the kisses she shares with Helena are anything meaningful when on that shelf in the hall closet sits a small box of Giselle’s belongings. A woman Helena did and very likely still feels something more than friendship for, the proof of that in the contents of that box. 

Quickly closing the closet door on that reminder, Myka returns to the sofa with her extra pillow, clutching it to her chest as she sits. It’s only wishful thinking to believe that brief kiss Helena gave her this morning was anything more than a simple gesture. Helena has become more affectionate towards her simply because she has to be. Her future remaining in Denver depends on it. 

Needing a distraction from Helena and their shared kisses, strategic or otherwise, Myka turns on the TV to play _Alice in Wonderland_. She adjusts the second pillow and feeling more tired than before lies against it, pulling the blanket back over her body. 

She tries not to think of Giselle, the woman whom she met only once and turns her attention to the film. She can feel her eyes droop in fatigue and no sooner is the white rabbit crying out, “I’m late, I’m late, I’m late,” than Myka is off to dreamland much the same way as dear Alice.

When Myka does awaken, Alice is similarly awakening from what turns out to be a rather extraordinary dream. It takes Myka a moment to realize there’s a reason why she stirred awake. Her cell phone is vibrating against the coffee table insistently.

Rubbing the sleep from her eyes, she swipes her thumb across the screen to answer. “Hello?”

“Myka,” she can hear the relieved sigh from Helena on the other end. “How are you feeling?”

“I’m fine. I just woke up actually. You sound worried - did you call me earlier?”

“Yes I did but there was no answer. I’m sorry if I woke you. I was…concerned.”

“I’m fine, Helena. I was just sleeping,” she assures.

“Well, I wanted to make sure that you hadn’t gotten stuck in the bathtub, something of that nature.”

Myka laughs. “No, I’ve just been asleep all morning. But I could probably do with a shower now that you mention it. I’m pretty sure my hair smells like vomit, despite your best attempts to keep it out of the way. I’m really sorry about last night, Helena,” she sighs despondently. 

“Why are you apologizing? You were ill, it’s not as if you can control that.”

“I’m apologizing that you had to see me that way. You didn’t have to stay,” Myka explains.

“Myka, yes I did,” Helena says softly. “You took care of me when I suffered my back injury.”

“That’s different,” Myka tries to protest.

“It’s really not,” Helena argues, “but fine, if I had been ill, would you have left my side?”

“No,” Myka answers without giving it a second thought.

“Well then,” Helena says pointedly. “I care about you, Myka, so of course I’m going to do my best to take care of you when you’re unwell.”

Myka fights back the tears that are forming at Helena’s sincere words. As a grown woman, she’s never had someone to take care of her the way Helena did last night, someone who cared enough to do so.

“If anyone should be apologizing for your illness, let’s both agree it was all Pete’s fault,” Helena goes on to say.

Myka laughs, quickly wiping away an escaped tear. “That sounds fair, I can do that.”

“Good. And having appealed to Pete’s concern for you and guilt for having taken you to that food truck in the first place, I have arranged for him to be at my apartment bright and early tomorrow morning to help move the remainder of my belongings, including my bookshelves.”

“Really? He agreed to that just because he felt guilty?”

“Well, there may have been some strong glaring on my part and also the promise of donuts before and pizza after the job is finished.”

“That sounds more like something Pete would agree to,” Myka nods.

“And, because everyone overhears everything in this office, as we learned the hard way yesterday, and not wanting to miss out on free donuts and pizza, not to mention possibly taking my bed, Claudia has offered her services and volunteered Steve in the process. And Leena too said she would be happy to help carry boxes so I think we’ll finally be able to get everything sorted at last.”

“That’s good news. It will be a relief to finally get you completely moved in to show Abigail that we are truly committed to this marriage, appearance-wise anyway.”

“It’s one way of showing our commitment, yes. We’ve yet to work on…other ways to show her our commitment to one another.”

Myka bites her lip at what Helena is insinuating. PDA. They’ve done little more than hold hands in front of Abigail. “We can discuss that topic tonight,” Myka sighs. “Maybe come up with some sort of game plan.” 

“Am I do understand you want to discuss of a game plan for intimacy during what is supposed to be our casual dinner date tonight? You really do know how to romance a woman, don’t you, darling?” Helena quips.

She can hear the smirk in Helena’s voice, knows the question posed is meant to be taken lightly but it has the opposite affect on Myka for she doesn’t have the slightest idea how to romance a woman. She doesn’t exactly have much experience in the romance department in general, next to none with a woman and that’s part of the problem with this entire arrangement. She’s in love with Helena and has no idea how to convey that love or if she should even make the attempt. Helena is the most remarkable person she knows and it’s not as if the woman suffers from a lack of potential suitors, men and women alike. She remembers Vincent and Nate and lastly she thinks of Giselle who she recalls being as striking as Helena in her own way. Myka remembers Giselle as being tall (taller than her, at least in the heels she wore that night they happened to meet) with gorgeous blue eyes and long auburn hair that fell in soft curls down her shoulders. Giselle had been poised and confident, attributes Myka feels she is sorely lacking most days. If Helena is attracted to a woman like that, what chance does Myka possibly have with her?

“Myka?” Helena speaks softly into the prolonged silence. “Are you alright?”

“Yeah, fine. Still tired I guess, sorry.”

“No, I’m sorry for interrupting your rest. And you’re absolutely right, we do need a game plan and it is entirely appropriate dinner conversation for tonight. I just can’t help thinking a little spontaneity in our interactions in front of Abigail would appear more sincere, that’s all.”

“You’re probably right about that. Anyway, we can talk more about it tonight, okay? I should let you get back to work and I need to take that shower so that I feel a little more like myself again.”

“Alright, darling. Take care and I’ll see you tonight.”

***

When Helena comes home, Myka is feeling better, showered and dressed comfortably in a loose fitting sweater and leggings with thick gray socks on her feet. Helena doesn’t know how the woman manages to dress so casual and yet still be so attractive.

“You look like you’re feeling better,” Helena greets her, setting a plastic bag on the kitchen counter.

“I am. I had another nap this afternoon. Apparently sleep does wonders - and that smells amazing,” Myka gestures to the bag. 

Helena laughs. “Chinese food - all your favorites and nothing spicy to upset your stomach further.”

“That’s thoughtful of you,” Myka says pulling plates out from the cupboard. “I had some soup and a few crackers for lunch but otherwise I’ve only had water all day and I’m finally beginning to feel hungry again. I think I’ll stick with ginger ale with dinner. Do you want wine?”

“No, I think I’ll have hot tea tonight. There’s a nip in the air and tea appeals to me.”

“When doesn’t tea appeal to you?” Myka grins.

Helena smirks in return, filling the kettle with water. “Truthfully, I don’t think I’ll ever turn down a cup, so you have me there.”

“Here, let me do that for you,” Myka says taking the kettle from her to set on the stove. “I’ll plate the food, you get out of those work clothes and into something more comfortable.”

“You’re sure?”

“Yeah. And when you come back, it’s you, me, a blanket and whatever movie you’ve decided on.”

“It’s a date,” Helena winks. “I’ll leave everything in your capable hands then, thank you, darling, ” Helena says placing a swift kiss to Myka’s cheek on her way out of the kitchen, unaware that Myka stares after her, fingers raised to her cheek to graze the remnants of that kiss. She clears her throat, trying not to go down the same path she did that morning regarding Helena’s seemingly reflexive but still unexpected kisses and concentrates instead on plating their dinner.

When Helena returns to the living room moments later, two plates of steaming Chinese food sit on the coffee table and Myka is just coming from the kitchen, her hands full with Helena’s mug of tea and her own glass of ginger ale.

“You’ve got the movie?” Myka asks setting down their drinks and pulling a blanket from the back of the sofa before sitting down.

“Yes,” Helena answers, flashing a DVD. “Myka, I should probably warn you, this film it isn’t my usual movie genre. And it’s considered a bit of a cult classic.”

“That sounds ominous. It’s not horror is it? Because you know I don’t do well with that,” Myka scrunches her nose in distaste. 

“No, it most definitely is not,” Helena assures with a smile. “You know I would never subject you to that kind of film after Pete chose that horrible movie to watch on one of our first movie nights.” Helena had been the only one of the group not affected by the horror movie. Even Pete, despite wanting to see the film, had been shaken by it, but Helena, more interested in the reactions of her friends than the story on screen had found it amusing. Myka, to say the least, had not found the film at all amusing and seeing the fear in her friend’s eyes, Helena had promptly invited Myka to stay the night at her apartment. She had quickly agreed, sleeping on Helena’s sofa for the first of several occasions. 

“So it’s not a period drama or some adventure movie?”

“Technically no, although now that you mention it, I suppose it could be considered as either of those,” Helena contemplates.

“What kind of movie is it then?”

“ _Somewhere in Time_ is primarily a romance,” Helena says removing the disc from the case to place into the player. 

“A romance? What makes it a cult classic then?”

“The premise is of a man who falls in love with a woman’s photograph taken in 1912. So consumed by that photograph of her, he wills himself to travel back in time to meet her.”

“So it’s fantasy?” Myka asks, brow furrowing.

Helena takes her seat beside Myka on the sofa, spreading the blanket over her lap too. “I suppose it could be considered fantasy, yes. Though I think science fiction may more accurately describe the synopsis. It’s also a rare instance that I prefer the movie over the book, likely because I saw the movie first and it already endeared me to the story.”

“It’s based on a book?”

“Yes, but please don’t tell Pete I prefer the movie or I’ll never hear the end of it.”

Myka laughs, taking the DVD case from Helena to look over the cover, reading the synopsis on the back. “Time travel is a weakness of yours, isn’t it?” Myka smiles.

“It is,” Helena agrees, taking a bite of cashew chicken.

“Well, the cover looks promising,” Myka goes on to say. “Superman and Dr. Quinn is quite a combination.”

Helena laughs. “It is, isn’t it?”

“But if you like this movie, chances are good I will too since we have similar taste in films. Actually we have similar taste in pretty much everything,” she says upon reflection.

“We are alike in many ways,” Helena agrees with a smile. She pushes play for the movie and sits further back against the sofa, close enough to Myka that they easily share the blanket between them. “Please keep in mind this film was released in 1980 if it seems a little dated. But I think you’ll find the music score throughout the film is truly lovely.”

Quietly eating dinner while the movie plays, it doesn’t take long for either woman to become absorbed in the film. They watch as Christopher Reeve’s character, Richard Collier, celebrates the success of his first play as a playwright and is approached by a mysterious old woman who gives him a pocket watch, asking that he come back to her before she walks away, leaving him startled by the encounter. 

Helena appreciates that Myka doesn’t ask questions that she no doubt has about this development. If Pete or Claudia were watching with them, they’d be peppering Helena with questions such as, ‘what was that about?’ or ‘who’s the old woman?’ Conversely, Myka knows that you have to let the story unfold in its own time and waits patiently for it to do so.

The story quickly progresses ahead several years to show the now successful playwright suffering from a severe case of writer’s block. Deciding to get away from the city, he stumbles upon the Grand Hotel and decides to stay a while. 

“That’s a beautiful hotel,” Myka comments, taking in the architecture that truly is grand.

It’s when Richard is waiting for a table for dinner and wanders into the hotel’s historical hall that the story truly begins. He’s drawn like a moth to a flame to a photograph on the wall of a young woman, brunette hair coiffed in the style of the early twentieth century. But it’s her eyes and smile, soft and intimate that are so entrancing.

“She’s stunning,” Myka says softly. “It’s no wonder he falls for her.”

“Yes, she most certainly is,” Helena exhales. 

Myka glances at Helena at the breathlessness in her voice and notices the blush in Helena’s cheeks as she catches her gaze. “You okay?” she asks, uncertain what exactly is the cause for Helena’s reaction.

“Yes, fine,” Helena is quick to answer. Myka continues to stare at her unconvinced and Helena sighs and pauses the movie. “Alright, I have a confession to make. I was fourteen the first time I saw this movie with several friends, years after its release. And while they were all commenting how handsome Christopher Reeve was, and though I agreed - he was incredibly good-looking, the fact is, any thought of him faded the moment I saw that photograph,” Helena gestures to the screen at Jane Seymour’s image. “This movie will always be dear to my heart, not only for the story, which I love, but for her. For just as Richard Collier falls in love with Elise McKenna, so too did I. It was my first crush on a woman, albeit a fictional one. And of course, the crush did extend to Jane Seymour for a time as well. You never forget your first,” Helena sighs longingly.

“I guess not,” Myka smiles, endeared by the admission Helena has just made to her.

Helena snaps out of her reverie embarrassed. “Alright then, I’ve confessed my first crush. Who was yours?”

“My first?” Myka takes a minute to think. “Probably Kurt Smoller when I was sixteen. He was on the wrestling team, had cute dimples when he smiled,” she shrugs.

“Though I wouldn’t mind learning more of this crush for young Kurt, I meant your first crush on a woman,” Helena grins.

“Oh.” Now it’s Myka who blushes for the first thought that comes to mind is Helena. It was meeting Helena for the first time, observing the confidence she exuded, her keen intelligence and her undeniable beauty that left Myka reeling. Not even the girl who kissed her during one of the few parties Myka attended during college could make her aware of her attraction to women. It was only after meeting Helena that she took a cursory glance back to realize that the admiration she felt for a couple of her teachers may have been unrealized attraction. That’s the answer she goes with now to sate Helena’s curiosity. “There was an English teacher in high school and later a professor in college. I guess either of them could be considered my first crush on a woman.”

“Attracted to wise, older women, I see,” Helena smirks. 

“More like unattainable.” A fact that hasn’t changed Myka thinks as she looks at Helena. 

Helena looks as though she want to press Myka for more details along that topic but Myka doesn’t let her. “Okay, back to the movie, Wells,” she says lightly, setting down her empty plate on the coffee table and settling back under the blanket.

“Bering-Wells if you please,” Helena says starting the movie again and Myka’s stomach flutters at the gentle reminder.

By the time Richard finally travels back in time to meet Elise, Myka has shifted closer to Helena, her head resting along Helena’s shoulder.

“Tired?” 

“A little,” Myka admits. “I don’t know why, I slept through most of the day.”

“You’ve been unwell, it’s understandable. We can stop the movie, pick it up another night if you’d rather go to bed early,” Helena suggests.

“I’m not that tired and I want to see this,” Myka insists.

Helena smiles, turning her attention back to the movie. Watching as Richard follows Elise into the ballroom and steals a brief dance with her. “Why is it couples don’t go dancing anymore? When did that change?” Helena asks interrupting the silence. “Even those old thirties and forties movies we watch, the couples often go dancing in clubs. Why don’t we have that anymore?”

“I’m pretty sure there are still clubs that have dancing, Helena,” Myka answers. “Don’t you remember those clubs we attended to hear Claudia play? As I recall they had dancing or some variation of it anyway.”

“Yes, but that’s a different kind of dancing altogether, not the kind I’m interested in. I’m talking about holding each other while swaying to the beat of the music. I want intimacy without obscenity. The way some people dance in those clubs leaves very little to the imagination of what they must get up to later on.” 

Myka chuckles at that. “Well, wasn’t it said that dancing is the vertical expression of a horizontal desire?”

“Of course you would quote Frost to me,” Helena says, “though he may have been right about his observation.” 

“I didn’t realize you enjoyed dancing at all.”

“Well, not anything one sees in the clubs these days, no. I’m too old-fashioned I suppose, but the dancing I’ve described, as they’re doing,” she says motioning to the screen, “yes, I would enjoy that very much.”

Readjusting her head against Helena’s shoulder, the action silences any further discussion on the subject of dancing but Myka carefully stows away that bit of information about Helena for future reference.

The movie continues on, Elise commandeering a horse and buggy so that she and Richard may escape to spend a day together. 

“I think I would have enjoyed the horse and buggy days,” Helena reflects thoughtfully, her hand resting along Myka’s arm, her thumb sneaking under Myka’s shirt sleeve, subconsciously stroking the soft skin of Myka’s wrist. 

Myka looks at her skeptically. “Really? You’d give up your Audi for a horse and buggy?” 

“Well, I don’t know that I’d go that far,” Helena concedes. “Still, there’s something simplistic about a horse and buggy allowing one to enjoy the scenery at a leisurely pace rather than speed with which we’re accustomed to today.”

“I suppose there is. And no doubt listening to the clip-clop of the horses’ hooves on a dirt road was more soothing than the loud motors we hear on busy freeways these days.”

“Exactly. In fact as I understand, Mackinac Island where this movie was filmed doesn’t allow vehicles, their means of transportation on the island falling to the aforementioned horse and buggy or bicycles. So in a sense it would be like stepping through time there, leaving behind the hustle of everyday living for something more leisurely.”

“Leisure sounds good to me,” Myka says stifling a yawn.

Helena laughs. Pulling a pillow from the corner of the sofa, she sets in her lap. “Here, lie down.”

Myka lifts her head from Helena’s shoulder to sit up. “I’m okay.”

Helena huffs at that. “Myka, I know you’re still tired. I just want you to be comfortable,” she explains.

After a brief hesitation, Myka does as instructed, pulling her legs up on the sofa to stretch out and resting her head on the provided pillow. Helena adjusts the blanket to better cover her new position. “Thank you, Helena,” Myka says. “You’re making it a challenge for me to stay awake when I’m this warm and comfortable.”

“Go to sleep then. As I said before, we can always watch this another time.”

“Mmm,” is the only response Myka gives as Helena’s fingers slip into her hair, blunt nails massaging her scalp. Myka tries determinedly to focus her attention on the movie rather than Helena’s touch, but it proves to be a challenge.

Lying so still and quiet, Helena is almost certain Myka has fallen asleep until the scene unfolds for the infamous photograph, the catalyst for Richard’s journey through time. Helena’s fingers are immersed in curly tresses, gently massaging while watching the screen as Elise glances up to see Richard coming towards her, smiling at the sight of him. The photographer snaps the picture at that exact moment, the photograph becoming the very one that hangs in the Grand Hotel that enthralls Richard many years later.

A soft exhalation of, “Oh,” falls from Myka’s lips and momentarily startled, Helena halts her ministrations. 

She laughs softly, “Indeed,” is all the reply she makes as her fingers once again begin to comb through Myka’s curls. 

The remainder of the movie passes in silence, both women enraptured with the story unfolding before them and when it finally ends, they still remain silent, Helena feeling the familiar prick of tears in her eyes at the bittersweet ending.

“Well, what did you think?” Helena asks trying to sound composed but her voice betrays her, slightly hoarse with emotion. 

Myka hears the catch in Helena’s voice and with a quick swipe at her own eyes turns to look up at Helena to see unshed tears in dark brown eyes. “It was a beautiful story, Helena, thank you for sharing it with me.”

Helena’s eyes are soft as she gazes at Myka, and her fingertips are as softer still as she brushes away a stray tear from Myka’s cheek. “It would seem you feel much the same way about this story as I do,” she smiles.

Myka nods. “I know we planned to go out tonight to see a movie, but I’m glad we didn’t after all,” she admits.

“Me too.”

“You’re sure?” Myka asks uncertain.

“Of course. After all, if we’d gone out to see a movie, I never would have been able to hold you like this,” Helena says softly, one hand still in Myka’s hair and the other resting gently atop her abdomen, Myka’s hand covering hers. 

Self-consciously Myka fidgets under Helena’s stare, knowing she should rise from resting her head in Helena’s lap but unwilling to do so if she doesn’t have to and the way Helena continues to brush fingers through her hair leads her to believe she doesn’t. “Still, it leaves me wondering, as all time travel stories do. I mean, Elise gave Richard that pocket watch in the beginning of the story, and yet if he hadn’t left it with her, she never would have given it to him.”

“It is a paradox,” Helena agrees. “Which is why time travel stories will never be truly satisfying as one is always left with more questions than answers. It goes back to the old question, which came first, the chicken or the egg, doesn’t it?”

“Something like that,” Myka agrees. 

“Well, how about something that is a little less of a paradox?” Helena asks, untangling her fingers from Myka’s hair to reach for the fortune cookies lying on the coffee table and holding them out for Myka to choose one.

Myka takes one from Helena’s hand and begins to open the packaging, carefully breaking the cookie in half to reveal a thin paper inside silently reading it.

“What does it say?” Helena prods.

“ _Follow your heart and you’ll never get lost_ ,” Myka reads aloud.

“Very sound advice,” Helena smiles.

If only it were simple to follow such advice. Myka has always been conflicted in following her heart when her head logically tells her something different. The one time she did follow her heart over her head, she married Helena to keep her from leaving and now they are in quite the predicament. Under investigation and forced to lie to everyone they know. Myka tosses the little slip of paper onto the table. “What does yours say?”

Helena breaks her cookie open to pull out the slip of paper, frowning as she reads the words aloud. “ _A clean conscience is a soft pillow_. I suppose that’s sound advice as well, especially given the circumstances,” she sighs, trailing a hand through her hair. 

Myka recognizes the nervous trait for what it is. “For both of us,” she agrees softly.

“And I suppose this little fortune is as good a segue as anything to discuss how we’re going to convince Abigail that our marriage is true. I think you mentioned over the phone this afternoon something about discussing our game plan as it were regarding one Ms. Cho.”

Myka shifts from Helena’s lap to sit up. “Yeah. I just think we should come up with some sort of plan for our interactions in front of her.”

“And by interactions, you mean the dreaded PDA?”

“Not dreaded,” Myka protests. “Just a bit…uncomfortable.”

Helena sighs. “The last thing I desire is to make you uncomfortable, Myka, I hope you know that.”

“I do. And I feel the same way - I don’t want to make you uncomfortable either, Helena.”

“So our kiss yesterday in my office…”

“The kiss was fine,” Myka says hurriedly, looking away to try to conceal the rising blush in her cheeks. “It was the presence of everyone else watching that made it uncomfortable, not to mention this…affection we’re showing each other, the physicality of it is new for us. I mean, we touch, we always have, little gestures here and there, but this is going to a level beyond anything we’ve shared before. It’s much more intimate and I…I…it’s just this whole situation is uncomfortable and having to showcase intimacy for our supposed relationship in front of everyone only adds to the unease,” Myka stammers out, a hand at her neck rubbing furiously, eyes downcast unable to meet Helena’s. 

“We could forgo such displays of intimacy.” 

“What?” Myka startles at the suggestion, glancing up. 

“Myka, your comfort is more important than any show we’d be putting on for Ms. Cho.”

“No, Helena, that’s not what I meant,” Myka says reaching for Helena’s hand to give it a soft squeeze in gratitude for her concern. Her eyes are soft as she looks into Helena’s worried ones. “You’re so confident displaying physical affection. It’s just not something that I’m used to. It’s been a while since I’ve been in a relationship and even then…well, you know how things ended with Jeff.”

“Yes, I remember,” Helena answers quietly. 

“Anyway, I just thought maybe it would be easier if we discussed what kinds affection to display in front of Abigail.”

“It may be a good idea to set some boundaries then.”

“Oh. Okay, boundaries, right,” Myka says self-consciously. “I should be aware of any kind of touching that makes you uncomfortable. I hope I haven’t done anything to make you uncomfortable so far,” she says worried. 

Helena stares at her blankly for a moment, then, “No, Myka, you haven’t done anything to make me uncomfortable, and you misunderstand. The boundaries I mention are for me in how I should or rather shouldn't touch you. I can assure you, there isn't any way that you could touch me that would make me uncomfortable.” Aroused on the other hand…

“Oh,” Myka says lamely, a little overwhelmed with the thought that Helena has basically given her consent to touch her in any way Myka wants, not that she will have the nerve to exercise that consent any time soon. “What kind of touching exactly do you have in mind?”

Now that is a loaded question if ever there was one. Helena takes a deep breath to clear her mind of the sudden images that spring there. "Well, PDA is generally subtle anyway. Hand holding?"

"We already do that," Myka says and for some reason blushes at the admission.

"So we do," Helena agrees smiling. "And that’s been okay with you?"

Myka nods. "Yeah, of course."

"Well then, there's also hugging to consider, would that be acceptable to you?"

Myka nods, bracing herself for the inevitable.

"And I know we’ve already shared a couple kisses at our wedding ceremony and then yesterday in my office, but how do you feel about kissing again when the occasion warrants?" Helena asks with bated breath.

Myka takes a moment to form a response, too overwhelmed at the thought of Helena kissing her again, possibly on multiple occasions. How will she ever survive? But then again, there probably won’t be many occasions to warrant such a display of affection anyway. "If you feel, or I feel that the situation calls for such a display, I think we should go with it."

"Aces. And you know, if it would make you more comfortable, we could always practice displaying intimacy,” Helena smiles coyly.

Myka quirks a brow at her. “Are you suggesting we have evening make-out sessions?” and her heart rate speeds up at the thought.

“That is an idea that I would be amendable to, in the interest of making you more comfortable for actual displays of affection in front of Ms. Cho of course. Care to practice a little now?” she grins.

Myka is not sure if Helena is serious or joking but her grin makes Myka think the latter and she laughs loudly, hoping to cover her rising nerves. "Nice try, Wells."

Helena sighs. "You can't blame a girl for trying, darling."

***

Myka switches on the radio, deciding if they’re going to be stuck working all afternoon, she might as well make the time pass as pleasantly as possible. She searches the stations for a moment until she finds the right one, stopping when she comes upon an easy melody. Sam Cooke singing “You Send Me”. She’s rewarded by her choice soon after when she hears Helena beside her begin to hum along to the melody. It’s something Myka has discovered Helena tends to do without seeming to realize it. She hums fifties and sixties love ballads, usually while she’s cooking, but Myka has caught her at it on other occasions too and finds the habit endearing, especially when it leads to her singing a chorus here and there, such as now.

 _You thrill me_  
_I know you, you, you thrill me_  
_Darling, you, you, you, you thrill me_  
_Honest you do_

_At first I thought it was infatuation_  
_But wooh, it’s lasted so long_  
_Now I find myself wanting_  
_To marry you, and take you home_

It doesn’t matter in the slightest to Myka that her singing is slightly off-key, it makes her smile more because of it, that Helena exudes such joy hearing the songs, it can’t be contained. But the smile fades when she sees Helena lifting a large box from the floor.

“Helena, what are you doing?” Myka asks as she rushes to grab a box from her hands.

“I thought I was unpacking boxes,” Helena huffs.

“I told you not to lift anything. You’re still recovering.”

“Myka, it’s been over two weeks and besides that box wasn’t even heavy,” she protests.

“No lifting,” Myka repeats glancing at the box to see it marked ‘kitchen’ and setting it down on the countertop. “There. Now you can unpack the items without causing further harm to your back.”

“Yes, darling,” Helena sighs in defeat.

“Man, you two are so married,” Pete intones, dropping another box to the floor with a loud thud.

“Pete! That box is marked fragile for a reason,” Myka scolds ignoring his comment.

Helena grins at both Pete’s comment and Myka’s resulting blush. She and Myka are married and it’s comforting to have someone who considers her well being for a change.

“Oh relax, Mykes, you packed everything with so much padding I could probably drop that box from the top of the building and nothing would break,” he argues moving towards the sofa to take a seat.

“Pete, don’t you dare sit down yet, Steve is still waiting down with the truck to unload the bookshelves,” Amanda says coming into the apartment with a box in her hands that she manages to set down carefully much to Myka’s appreciation.

Pete groans. “Isn’t it enough I moved them out of HG’s apartment? Why do I have to move them again?”

“Because you poisoned my wife and this is the deal we made to make up for that mishap,” Helena chimes in cheerfully.

“Hey, it wasn’t my fault she got food poisoning. Blame that on the taco truck.”

“The taco truck you insisted we eat from despite my protest,” Myka glares. 

“Still say it wasn’t my fault and I’ve gotten the short end of the deal here.”

“But it is a deal you agreed to,” Helena reminds. 

“Pete, Steve is waiting,” Amanda says pointedly.

“Fine, fine, I’m going,” he says, giving her a loud smooch on the cheek to make her laugh before exiting the apartment.

Amanda turns back to look at the married couple who are looking at her with equal expressions of distaste at Pete’s antics. “Really? You’re newlyweds now, but I’m sure once you’ve been with each other as long as Pete and I, you’ll find that kind of playful kiss charming. And I’m still mad at you both by the way, that I was the last one to find out you’d gotten married,” she complains.

“Yes, I’m well aware,” Helena says. “When I called Pete the other night to see if he was also ill, you took over the conversation and in the same breath managed to both congratulate me on the marriage and berate me for not telling you of it sooner. It was only an afterthought that you finally inquired about Myka’s health at all.”

“I was the last one to know you’d gotten married! Secretly! And why was I the last one to know? Because you decided to tell everyone at work instead of a normal couple who might share such news over dinner with all their closest friends present. Or better yet, actually invite them to the wedding.”

“It wasn’t intentional that you were left out, Amanda,” Myka tries to explain. “It just sort of spilled out,” she says thinking of the visit she and Pete made to the jewelry store and everything that unraveled because of it. The way she and Helena hadn’t intended to tell anyone and now everyone knows, including their families, and how it is becoming more difficult everyday, every moment to separate the ruse of the marriage from her love for Helena. This marriage was only meant to be a simple transaction to keep Helena in the country, nothing more. So much for best-laid plans. Now they are living together with the blessing of their family and friends, with their help even and the marriage is beginning to feel real to her in a way she knows it’s not supposed to, not when Helena doesn’t share the same feelings anyway and she doesn’t know what to do about it.

“I didn’t even get to see one of your two ceremonies the way everyone else did,” Amanda goes on, interrupting Myka’s internal rambling and picking up a now framed photograph from the wedding ceremony to study. 

“If you could call it that,” Claudia huffs, taking a break from cleaning and unpacking to join in the conversation.

Amanda shakes her head. “I thought for sure Pete and I would tie the knot before you two ever realized how perfect you were for each other and look at you now - married after only a few weeks of dating,” Amanda sighs exasperated.

“Yes, but we’ve been best friends for years,” Helena quietly points out with a soft look for Myka. 

“Hold up, you knew Myka and HG had the hots for each other?” Claudia asks dubiously. “I had to point it out Pete.”

“Pete is oblivious to most things that aren’t food, surely you realize this by now, Claudia,” Amanda says. “Plus he treats Myka like a surrogate sister, he doesn’t want to think of her in a sexual relationship any more than he does his own sister.”

“And I really would appreciate if you didn’t talk about my…sexual relationship, perceived or otherwise either,” Myka interrupts embarrassed. “Will you please just go back to unpacking?”

Amanda only smiles at Myka before turning her attention back to Claudia. “So yes, Claudia, having eyes I could see the way they looked at each other and I knew as you put it that Myka and Helena had - _have_ the hots for each other.”

“Ah, I wish I’d known that before. We totally could have placed bets on how long it would take them to get together,” Claudia shakes her head at a missed opportunity. 

“It doesn’t matter, I would have lost. I figured it’d be years yet.”

“So did I,” Claudia smirks. “Who knew the threat of deportation would be all it would take to get them to admit their feelings for each other.”

“They would have gotten together eventually,” Leena speaks up, taking a break from unpacking. “They’re meant to be,” she smiles at the newlyweds. 

“Yeah, but it still took nothing less than the threat of deportation for them to admit it,” Claudia reiterates. 

“Seriously guys, if you’re just going to stand around discussing trivial matters such as the relationship status of Helena and I, you can just go home, you’re not helping here,” Myka says irritated. 

“It’s not trivial, Myka,” Claudia protests. “Besides, you two are the ones who took so long to admit your feelings for each other.” 

“Okay yes, we’ve been friends and coworkers for three years, I didn’t realize there was a statute of limitations for when two people can decide there’s something more between them. We were friends and now we’re…more than friends…we’re married. That’s it, end of discussion.”

“Myka I was just…” Claudia starts to say something more. 

“Claudia,” Helena warns seeing the distress on Myka’s face.

“What? I’m just saying…”

“I think you’d do better to say nothing further at the moment,” Helena interrupts. 

“Come on, Claudia, let’s get something to drink,” Leena says, dragging the young woman to the kitchen, shooting Myka an apologetic look on their way. 

Helena sidles up to Myka, whispering so that only she can hear, “Alright, darling?”

Myka nods, taking a deep breath. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

“You’re sure?” Helena prods, not entirely believing her.

“Yeah. I just…wasn’t ready for that kind of conversation but I suppose I should get used to it,” she says with a hand rubbing at her forehead as if to ease away a headache. 

“Myka…”

“Really, Helena, it’s fine,” Myka interrupts with a gentle squeeze to her arm. “Let’s just keep working, okay?”

“Certainly,” Helena answers, swallowing down any other questions.

The rest of the unpacking progresses well. Leena and Claudia work steadily in the kitchen, finding room for Helena’s various cooking utensils among Myka’s.

“You know you have two of pretty much everything now,” Claudia points out the obvious.

“Yes, we’re aware of that fact,” Helena remarks. “If you see anything you could use, by all means, have at it.”

“Sweet! This hasn’t been such a bad gig so far moving your things. “I’ve already got your bed, now I can add a pasta strainer to the mix.”

“Well, I’m pleased you’re pleased,” Helena remarks drily.

“Tell me again why I’m the one always walking backwards with these bookshelves?” Steve asks as he and Pete stumble across the threshold with the last bookshelf.

“Because I have a bad back. My wrestling days…” Pete begins to explain.

“Yeah, yeah, I know, you injured your back in college and now I’m the one suffering for it.”

“Hey, man, this moving heavy furniture business is no picnic for me either.”

“Well once you move it against the wall with the others, you can relax, Pete,” Myka tells him. “Helena and I will finish the rest.”

The guys carefully maneuver the shelf against the wall lined with the others and step back to admire their effort. There are two walls in the living room now lined with bookshelves. “It’s like a library in here,” Pete says, his tone bordering on distaste.

“And what’s wrong with that?” Myka asks, arms crossed at her chest and a frown on her face.

Pete notices her defensive stance and tries to backtrack. “Nothing wrong, just you know, it’s a living room, not a library. You’re supposed to live in this space, watch TV, that sort of thing,” he says collapsing onto the sofa in a heap.

“Don’t listen to him, Myka. To Pete, only the TV and whatever accessories to enhance its viewing pleasure belong in the living room,” Amanda explains. “Though I have to say, it is looking a little crowded in here at the moment.”

“That could easily be attributed to the number of people here just now rather than the furniture,” Helena interjects.

“Ha-ha, I love you too, dear. But seriously, have you two ever considered getting a house? With your combined income I’m sure it would be no problem for you and then you could have an entire room devoted to your ridiculously large collection of books alone and it really would be like a library.”

Myka meets Helena’s gaze, sees the softness in her eyes. “It may have come up,” she concedes, “but we’re not rushing into anything. Buying a house together is a huge step to take.”

“So is marriage, but you managed to take that step just fine - and after so little time actually dating,” she reminds.

“Do I detect derision in your tone, Amanda?” Helena asks. 

“No,” she sighs. “A little annoyance maybe - because you didn’t bother to tell anyone you were finally dating and I was the last one to know you’d gotten married.”

“You’re never going let that go are you?” Helena asks.

“Probably not. And even you must admit to go from a month of quietly dating to marriage is kind of quick, especially for you two considering you gazed at each other longingly for the last three years without making a move.”

Helena glances at Myka who returns her gaze with a startled expression before turning away to unpack another box. “I admit our marriage was sudden but you know the extenuating circumstance for why it was. As for a house, that will have to wait. Myka and I already have more pressing matters to attend to at the moment, namely making sure I’m not deported after all we’ve done to avoid that outcome.”

“And if we did get a house, that would mean more moving,” Myka speaks up. “Does that mean you’re volunteering to help us again, Amanda?”

Before Amanda can answer, Pete exclaims, “Nooo way! Nuh-uh! I didn’t volunteer this time. Moving you today was only because HG guilted me into it to make up for the food poisoning fiasco that really wasn’t my fault. Next time hire professional movers,” he says still sprawled out on the sofa.

“Guilted you? I take offense at that remark,” Helena says. “I thought you were the sort of man who helps his friends in need.”

“Sure, a few boxes here and there, not furniture! But you said it was my fault Myka got food poisoning and that I owed it to her to help you move the rest of your furniture into her apartment. I’m still not sure how it’s my fault she got sick, I’m not the one who undercooked the chicken. But whatever, mission accomplished, debt paid in full. And now you owe me pizza.”

“Yes, yes, you’ll have your pizza, I assure you. And since you were a good sport about my guilting you into helping today, I’ll even throw in one of those dessert pizzas just for you.”

“Now you’re talking,” he grins.

“But calling it a day in time for dinner is still a least another hour away,” Helena says glancing at her watch, “and there’s plenty of work left to be done.”

“I just sat down,” he protests, “after lugging your heavy bookshelves up four floors.”

“You didn’t do that alone,” Steve reminds from where he sits in a chair nearby, eyes closed and head tilted back in rest.

“That’s right, I think Jinksy and I have done more than our share of the work and we deserve to spend the rest of the time before dinner right where we are.”

“Doing nothing?” Amanda quirks a brow.

“Not nothing, we’ll be working up an appetite,” he grins.

Amanda shakes her head at him. “Since when has that been work for you? You always have an appetite.”

“Fine then. We’ll sit here and supervise. Right, Steve?”

“Sounds like a good plan to me,” he agrees.

“Really, you all deserve a break,” Myka tells the little group that has now gathered all together in the living room. “You’ve all worked so hard today and thanks to you we’ve finally gotten all of Helena’s belongings packed and brought here so that she can feel completely moved in at last. And it’s one less thing for us to worry about, so thank you, truly.”

“It’s our pleasure, Myka,” Leena assures her with a smile. “We’re just so happy to see the two of you finally together.” 

“Yep, it was about fraking time,” Claudia agrees heartily.

Myka grasps at her neck, uncertain how to respond to their exuberance for she and Helena to be in a relationship. So instead of formulating a response, she ignores it altogether. “I think we should call it a day. Helena and I can finish the rest of the unpacking later, so let’s order some pizzas.”

After a whoop of excitement from both Pete and Claudia and a chorus of topping preferences called out, extra cheese and pepperoni for Pete, anything but anchovies from Claudia (Myka shudders at the thought), veggie for Steve and Leena, Myka manages to at last place the large order.

“It’ll be close to an hour before delivery,” she tells them causing an audible groan from both Pete and Claudia. “I ordered your favorite too, Helena.”

“Thank you, darling,” Helena says, placing a swift kiss along Myka’s cheek at her thoughtfulness, smiling at the resulting blush that blooms there when Pete and Claudia joined by Amanda say a collective, “ _Awww_ ,” that causes laughter from everyone. 

“Okay,” Helena breaks up the laughter on Myka’s behalf, “you know what would make the time pass by more quickly before dinner arrives - more unpacking,” she smirks.

Her statement is met with more groaning but in need of something to do, they begin work again. Even Pete removes himself from his self-appointed supervision duties to sweep the kitchen floor. It’s only moments later that all thought of doing more work evaporates when a particular song floats through the speakers. 

_You never close your eyes anymore when I kiss your lips_

Amanda stops working to meet Pete’s gaze across the room and shakes her head in defeat when he begins to sing along with the Righteous Brothers, dramatically gripping the broom in his hand to use as a microphone and striding across the room to her side. 

_And there’s no tenderness like before in your fingertips_

“What is happening?” Claudia asks Steve.

“I couldn’t begin to tell you,” he answers dumbfounded, watching Pete move across the room, singing into a broom. 

_You’re trying hard not to show it, but baby, baby, I know it_  
_You’ve lost that loving feeling_

Pete drops the broom at Amanda’s feet in favor of offering his hand for her to take. “Dance with me?”

With an affectionate headshake of disbelief, she takes his hand and leans forward in a brief kiss. “I suppose, since it is our song.”

“Pete’s obsession with _Top Gun_ aside, I still don’t understand how this can be your song,” Myka says flabbergasted, arms crossed against her chest. “It’s essentially about a couple’s relationship coming to an end.”

“Wait, hold up,” Claudia interrupts. “Pete’s obsession with _Top Gun_ is the reason this is your song? Seriously? That’s classic,” she laughs.

“Hey, that movie is a classic,” Pete defends as he holds onto Amanda.

“You have to admit, it is a little odd considering the lyrics,” Leena adds her opinion.

“I know,” Amanda agrees. “But it sort of stuck - how could it not when this goofball managed to take over the sound system in a coffee shop just so he could sing it to me? I knew then any man willing to make such a fool of himself as Pete did just to make me laugh was a man worth getting to know. And now here we are, four years later, still going strong,” she says leaning in for another kiss.

“It’s gotta be love,” Pete grins, sliding an arm around her waist to bring her even closer.

Amanda glances over Pete’s shoulder at their friends watching them slow dance. “Alright, newlyweds, why don’t you get over here and join the party?”

“We wouldn’t want to intrude on your moment, Amanda,” Myka is quick to give an excuse.

“Ah, come on, it’ll be like dancing at the wedding reception you didn’t have,” she smiles. 

“Really, that’s okay,” Myka tries again, aware that Helena is staring at her.

“Come on, you two are the newlyweds here, start acting like it,” Amanda says. “Aside from the little peck of a kiss Helena gave you a few minutes ago and your usual pull to be always near each other, I haven’t observed so much as a lip-lock and heated embrace that I fully expected to stumble upon at some point today,” she winks.

Myka and Helena share an uncomfortable look between them. “There is such a thing as propriety, Amanda,” Helena finally says. “We may not have embraced publicly as it were, but I can assure you, between Myka and I, there is always affection. However, to satisfy your desire to see something more tangible between us,” she says turning to face Myka, “may I have this dance?”

Myka knows her mouth is gaping open and there’s no reason for it to. Dancing with Helena as her wife is perfectly acceptable, expected even given the encouraging looks the rest of the group is giving them. “You’ve Lost That Loving Feeling” ends but the next song maintains a slow melody.

“Come on, Myka,” Amanda entreats still clinging to Pete, “no excuse now that our song has ended.”

Never taking her eyes off Helena, Myka slips her hand into Helena’s warm one and feels that familiar flutter in her stomach when Helena slowly encircles her waist, pulling her in close. She can feel the press of Helena’s breasts against hers and the sensation does nothing to abate the fluttering, only intensifies it. Myka intakes a sharp breath and is careful to slowly exhale, trying desperately to regulate her breathing and hoping Helena doesn’t notice the affect she’s having. As exquisite as the feeling is to be held by Helena so intimately, Myka is still keenly aware of their audience and can’t help wishing she and Helena were left alone with the melody. 

_Are the stars out tonight_  
_I don’t know if it’s cloudy or bright_  
_I only have eyes for you dear_

A part of Myka is elated to be in Helena’s arms this way, dancing with her, especially after their brief conversation on the subject the night before while watching the movie, but she also regrets that this moment has to be shared among their friends. She knows too well it was only because of Amanda’s idea that they weren’t acting ‘newlywed’ enough and her insistence that they join in the dancing that prompted Helena to ask her at all. Once again, Myka is caught between a genuine desire to be with Helena and the pretense of their marriage, to keep up the charade they’re falling deeper into every day, every moment such as this. It doesn’t help that Helena’s dark eyes are looking at her with an intensity that sends Myka’s heart racing. An intensity that has Myka wondering if their dancing together isn’t part of some larger act but rather something Helena desires as well. She swallows down that hope knowing such thoughts will likely only lead her to disappointment. 

Not to be left out of the party, Steve offers his hands to both Leena and Claudia and the three of them spin about the room, Claudia making a flourish of it, attempting to dip Steve before he pushes her away laughing to dance only with Leena. The action doesn’t deter Claudia who sways to the beat anyway.

The apartment door having been left open for the numerous comings and goings throughout the day remains open during this exchange, which is why now an unobserved figure stands in that doorway, taking in the scene before her of these seven people dancing about the room to the pleading strains of the song. She notices a young woman dancing to the beat of her own drum as it were, her movements a little too robust to match either the melody or the lyrics of the song playing. She also notices two couples comprised of a man and woman dancing. One couple talk while they dance, laughter filtering easy between them as though they are good friends. The second couple dance closely together, the woman’s head resting on her partner’s shoulder and his hand trailing the length of her back, finally coming to rest on her very lower backside. The touch is intimate in a very obvious way. But it’s the third couple that draws the figure’s interest. Two women are dancing together, standing closer than the first couple but not closer than the second. There’s a familiarity between them, an intimacy of another kind, but also a hesitance in their movements, an uncertainty that can be seen in the way they hold each other that though still intimate, also borders on formal and unfamiliar as though it’s the first time they’ve touched this way. Their hands are placed just so, the taller woman’s hand rests lightly on the other’s shoulder and the shorter woman’s fingers splay at her partner’s waist as they gently sway to the music. It’s a very interesting sight to behold and the woman in the doorway makes note of her observation.

The song slows, coming to its inevitable end but before Myka can disentangle herself from Helena’s hold, Helena is pulling her closer, whispering against her ear, “Do you trust me?”

Confused by the question, Myka pulls back enough to meet Helena’s questioning stare. “Of course, you know I do, but why…”

“Simply upping our game, darling.”

“What do…” Myka gets no further in voicing her question however when Helena moves closer still and firmly presses her lips to Myka’s in a fervent kiss.

Myka would like to say later that it was pure reflex that she deepened the kiss, but it was also desire, most definitely. 

With Helena’s lips pressed to hers, Myka molds her body against Helena’s, one hand slips its way into silky tresses, the other gently wraps around her waist to pull Helena closer against her body, embracing her completely. The sensation of Helena pressed against her intimately, the softness of Helena’s hair that slips through her fingers with ease, the warmth of Helena’s lips as they move against hers heatedly with intent is all so intoxicating that Myka wants more, needs more. She licks at Helena’s lips, parting them with ease to slip her tongue inside Helena’s warm mouth and hearing Helena sigh at the first touch of their tongues, Myka honestly feels her knees go weak. The sensation only makes her cling tighter to Helena in need. 

“And you thought they weren’t acting ‘newlywed’ enough,” Pete tells Amanda. “All right ladies, break it up before I have to pour ice water on you to turn down the heat.”

Hearing Pete talk has the same affect pouring cold ice water over them would as far as Myka is concerned. For an all too brief moment, the rest of the world had fallen completely away and all that remained was Helena in Myka’s arms, kissing her. Myka pulls away from the kiss with a gasp. Breathless, she is happy to note Helena appears to be in the same state if the rapid rise and fall of her chest is any indication. She unfolds her hand from Helena’s hair, gently lifting a strand to tuck behind her ear. Helena’s mouth remains slightly parted whether from surprise, exertion or a desire to resume kissing, Myka doesn’t know but desperately hopes for the latter. Seeing Helena’s eyes fall to her lips, she begins to step forward with the intention of resuming their kiss but is interrupted again by Pete.

“Unh-uh, save the smooching for later, preferably after we’ve all gone home. Besides, you’ve got company,” he says motioning to the door.

Myka follows his direction to see Abigail standing in the doorway looking at her intently. The heart-pounding elation Myka felt seconds ago evaporates at the realization the kiss was nothing more than another ploy. Helena’s words just before their kiss reverberate in her head. Upping their game indeed. She knows she shouldn’t be upset, this is after all exactly what they discussed the night before, what she agreed to do when the occasion warranted. Finishing the dance, Helena must have spotted Abigail watching them. The occasion definitely warranted such a display. Still, Myka takes a step away from Helena, her hand falling to her stomach to settle the churning she feels there now in place of the fluttering moments before. She knows Helena is watching her but so overcome with her own conflicting emotions, she averts her gaze, missing the regret that passes through Helena’s dark eyes.

“Ms. Cho, how lovely to see you again,” Helena manages to recover, her voice a lower timbre than usual that seems to be a lasting effect of her shared kiss with Myka. She clears it before speaking again. “You must be quite the dedicated employee to work on the weekend.”

“All part of the job,” Abigail answers still standing in the doorway. 

“Please, come inside,” Helena invites.

“Thank you. I stopped by to see if progress has been made in regards to your living arrangements and I see that it has - I’ve caught you at a busy time.” she says stepping inside the apartment and taking in the various boxes, cleaning supplies, and extra furniture inside the room.

"Yes, as you can see we're getting the last of my belongings moved in at last, thanks to our friends," Helena says glancing among the group to see undisguised interest on their faces regarding the visitor. "And I suppose I should make introductions. Everyone, this is Abigail Cho. She works with Immigration Services and as we’ve explained before, she has been tasked with investigating our marriage to make sure it's not a case of fraud, that Myka and I didn't marry only to keep me from deportation."

"You're kidding right?" Pete scoffs.

"No, she's not and I told you we were being investigated, Pete," Myka says exasperated.

"Yeah, I know but I don’t know, this just seems like a plot from a bad movie. What exactly needs to be investigated? You married a British citizen, you didn't break the law."

“That hasn’t been determined yet and marriage fraud is a serious offense and a rising problem,” Abigail speaks up. “Roughly fifteen percent of marriage visas are given to fraudulent marriages. And for the record, I haven’t said these ladies have broken the law or are part of that fifteen percent. The point of me being here is to observe their relationship to gather evidence that will help determine if they married only so Helena could obtain citizenship or if they married for love."

“Did you not just see that smokin’ hot kiss?” Pete asks. “I was ready to throw water over them to cool them off.”

Abigail glances at Myka and Helena, notices the way Myka looks down at the floor and Helena looks at Myka with an expression Abigail can’t decipher. 

"So what, you decide if they're really in love or just acting a part?" Claudia asks.

“As I said, I simply gather the facts based on what I observe and what Myka and Helena share with me about the nature of their relationship. Once I compile all the facts, the evidence will speak for itself.” 

"You seriously doubt their sincerity?" Amanda asks.

Abigail steals a glance at Myka and Helena, sees the way they stand so near each other, also sees the trepidation on their faces. "I don't doubt that they care for each other, that's obvious to anyone who looks at them. But the fact is, Helena's visa expired, she was meant to return to England. But before that happened, she notified our office that she had gotten married. You can see how one might jump to the conclusion that the marriage may be a fallacy, that it was only a means of keeping her in the country. By their own admission they had only recently become romantically involved. How many others do you know whom marry after only dating for a month?"

"Yeah, but Myka and HG have known each other for years," Claudia pipes up. "It wasn't surprising they fell for each other, more like..."

"Inevitable," Leena finishes with a warm smile for the ladies under scrutiny. Addressing Abigail, she asks, “Is there anything we can do to help with the investigation, answer any questions?”

"Thank you, interviewing friends who know them well may help add insight to the investigation. The last two occasions I’ve met with Helena and Myka, they hadn’t told any of their friends about their marriage so it bodes well that you all know now. How did Helena and Myka tell you about their marriage?” Abigail asks the group. 

Claudia laughs and Myka bites at her lip, knowing what Claudia’s going to say and having no way to stop her without drawing further scrutiny. Not even Helena squeezing her hand in reassurance offers any comfort.

“We heard it from Pete,” Claudia says a second before realizing what that admission could mean for the newlyweds under investigation with the woman heading their investigation in the room. She’s wide-eyed when she looks at Helena and Myka who smile weakly back.

“Helena and Myka didn’t share news of their marriage, Pete did?” Abigail questions for further clarification. 

“Yeah,” Claudia says subdued.

“And how exactly did Pete tell you?”

Claudia begins to sweat under Abigail’s penetrating gaze. “Umm. Actually we kind of overheard him shout ‘you’re married!’ from behind HG’s office door,” the truth tumbles from her lips. 

“So, Helena and Myka didn’t tell you about their marriage and technically neither did Pete, is that what you’re telling me?”

“Yes?” Claudia squeaks.

“Thank you,” Abigail says writing in her notebook. “But you, Pete,” she says turning to look at him, “they did tell you of their marriage?”

“Yep, I was told,” he answers briefly, barely meeting Abigail’s eyes, not wanting to give anything more away than he has to, for Myka’s sake and also his. With Amanda in the room, there’s no way he wants to reveal that he heard about their marriage from the sales clerk at the jewelry store while looking for an engagement ring for her. 

“When did Myka tell you about her marriage to Helena?” Abigail persists.

“I heard about it Thursday, on our lunch hour. We hit up a taco truck and Mykes got sick with food poisoning,” he rambles.

“Oh, I’m sorry to hear that,” Abigail says confused why that information is shared but offering her sympathy to Myka anyway. 

“Were you surprised to learn of the marriage?”

“Well, yeah. I mean, I wasn’t surprised in a it was never gonna happen kind of way, just more of I didn’t even know they were dating way.”

“I knew something was going on between them,” Claudia says, trying to help. 

“Did you?” Helena asks amused.

“Uh, yeah. You two are so obvious with your staring and always needing to be near each other.”

Myka startles at that, looking at Helena who smiles in return.

“What made you decide to tell Pete of your marriage when you did?” Abigail asks Myka.

“The topic of marriage came up while we were eating,” she says with a furtive look towards Amanda, “and it eventually just sort of spilled out.”

“So you didn’t intend to tell him then?”

“Not then, no. It’s not that I didn’t want to or wasn’t going to eventually…”

“That’s right, in fact Myka and I did discuss telling Pete last weekend while we were packing up my apartment. We just hadn’t made a decision as to when to tell him or anyone else.”

“I see,” Abigail says again, quietly jotting down notes. 

“But it all worked out,” Leena hurries to say, the sight of Abigail taking notes making her nervous for her friends. “We all got to see them exchange rings in a little ceremony in Helena’s office after we found out.”

“Almost all,” Amanda reminds. “I wasn’t there and wasn’t told until much later that evening. I might still be a little bitter about that fact,” a smile belies her statement, “but I love them to death and couldn’t be happier that they finally realized their feelings for each other and took the plunge.” She takes the framed photograph from the end table to hand to Abigail. “How can anyone deny the love between them?” she asks.

Abigail studies the photograph, much the same way she did the week before when she last visited. There’s no denying there is something between the women, but just what exactly Abigail can’t be sure of yet. But she’s determined to find out.

***

“Not gonna lie, that was a little intense,” Pete breaks the collective silence after Abigail departs when the pizzas arrive, excusing herself so the group of friends may enjoy their dinner.

“Oh my god you guys, I almost completely blew it for you,” Claudia groans. 

“No, you didn’t, Claud,” Myka tries to assure. “We did that pretty well ourselves. We probably should have just been upfront about our marriage with you all.”

“Well, no argument there,” Amanda says. “The more we discuss the topic, I admit, the more I wonder why you didn’t just tell us you were in a relationship and then that you were getting married, even if it was sudden because of the deportation issue.”

“It’s complicated to explain,” Myka says hesitantly.

“And really the reasons are between Myka and I alone,” Helena adds silencing any further discussion on the matter. “Let’s have some dinner, you’ve all earned it.”

Blessedly, the subject of their marriage and the reasons for keeping it secret as they did, drops in favor settling in for the night of food and a movie near the end of what has turned out to be a very long day. They've all grabbed slices of their preferred pizza and balancing plates on their laps, Pete with extra napkins insisted upon Myka, they choose their seats waiting for the movie to begin. For most of the group, the movie choice isn't of great significance, but for Pete and Helena, whatever one of them chooses, the other is sure to put up a lengthy dispute. This may have stemmed from when Pete made them watch _War of the Worlds_ claiming it to be better than the book of which he never read. A book that is one of Helena's favorites and for which the movie is appalling, in her words. She hasn't trusted Pete's movie choices since and Myka is inclined to take Helena's side considering the awful horror movie he chose on another occasion.

Which is why at this moment they will be watching _Despicable Me_. A favorite among everyone, more importantly, both Pete and Helena love it, Pete for the dumb but lovable minions and Helena for the misunderstood but sensitive “villain” and the three adorable little girls he adopts.

Finishing cleaning up the kitchen, Myka grabs her plate and takes her place beside Helena on the sofa where she saved Myka a place. Before taking a bite, Myka holds out her plate to Helena. "Okay, please take the mushrooms before they contaminate the rest of my pizza."

"Contaminate, really, Myka?" she smiles wide as she carefully picks off several of the offensive fungi, laughing at the look of repulsion on Myka's face when she slips one into her mouth with a sigh of bliss. "Why do you continue to order mushrooms on pizza if you don't like them?"

"Because you do. And it's easier for me to have you take them off my pizza rather than not ordering them at all and depriving you of something you love."

"Oh," Is all Helena can think to reply at the moment, overcome with a rush of warmth for Myka, for her unceasing thoughtfulness and care. Not for the first time, Helena wonders at her fortune having Myka for a friend, to love her and now to be married to her…it defies description. She slips another mushroom into her mouth, savoring the flavor on her tongue. She knows they still have a ways to go in convincing Abigail the marriage is based in love, she has a ways to go in showing Myka she loves her, but right now she is eating pizza _with_ mushrooms, watching a movie while sitting beside the woman she loves and she is content. 

***

Myka is in bed, reading as usual when Helena steps out of the bathroom freshly bathed later that night. She turns to face the mirror, seeing in its reflection Myka watching her with interest. Helena tied her hair into a soft bun for her bath, but she releases it from its confines now, noticing the way Myka’s lips part slightly when her hair tumbles down her shoulders, almost as if in an inaudible gasp. Interesting. Perhaps Myka does feel an attraction towards her that’s more than friendship. Helena can only hope so as she takes care to brush out the long strands. 

“Everything okay?” Myka asks and Helena can’t help noticing her voice has a breathless quality to it. 

“Of course, why wouldn’t it be?”

“You were in there longer than usual - and you took a bath rather than a shower.”

“Ah yes, and I confided in you my habit of taking baths to give me an opportunity to think through things.”

“Yeah,” Myka says. “So are you - okay?”

Helena smiles. “I am. I was just thinking over the events of the day. Our friends, the way they came to help us, then Abigail making an appearance as she did - her presence leading to our kiss.”

Myka averts her eyes and clears her throat self-consciously. “Yeah, sorry about that, I took it too far, I know,” she tries to apologize.

“Not at all. Myka I…I was actually thinking it was very nearly perfect,” she rushes to say. If only if hadn’t been for show and they hadn’t been interrupted by the company of their friends. 

“You did?” Myka startles, looking up to meet Helena’s dark eyes.

Now Helena clears her throat, self-conscious from her admission. “Yes. You are…an extremely good kisser.”

“You sound surprised.”

“Not surprised - pleased.”

Myka raises a brow at that.

“I mean…had no idea at exactly how good a kisser you are,” Helena tries to clarify inwardly cursing her choice of words while crossing the room to pull back the covers to her side of the bed and sitting down. She begins her nightly routine of applying lotion to her skin and hopes the action will keep her from saying anything more embarrassing. 

“How could you know I would be a good kisser? I mean it’s not like we ever kissed…” Myka clears her throat nervously, “I mean like that…like we did today.”

“No, I suppose not. It does make me wonder however, whom you practiced such a skill with. Young Kurt perhaps?” Helena grins.

Myka shakes her head. “No, he was only interested in me as a tutor to help him pass his English lit class so he could keep playing sports.”

“His loss surely.”

She shrugs. “I doubt he saw it that way. I wasn’t popular in high school - mostly kept to myself with my head in a book.”

Helena pictures a younger version of Myka, glasses crooked on her nose, curls falling haphazardly into her face as she reads a book. The thought of Myka that way makes her smile, especially since glancing at Myka now sitting in bed, her glasses are crooked on her nose, curls falling into her face, a book in her lap. “Definitely his loss,” she repeats.

Myka glances away. “Well, that doesn’t matter now, does it? Besides, I saw him a few years ago at my reunion.”

“Yes? And was he pudgy and beginning to bald as one would hope?” Helena asks now rubbing lotion onto her calves.

“No,” Myka laughs. “He was even more good looking than I remembered actually.”

“Well, that is as disappointing as it is unforgivable. But your attraction to him…” Helena prods.

“Fled after he talked about nothing but sports the entire evening.”

“You spent the entire evening with him?” Helena questions, feeling an irrational stab of jealousy for someone she’s never met, someone whom Myka has just declared she has no feelings for. Still, he once was someone she had feelings for, even if only a childish crush.

“Most of the evening, yeah. He’s a nice guy, just a little on the dull side considering sports seemed to be his only interest in life.”

“Mmm,” is Helena’s only response as she finishes applying lotion to her skin and shuffles under the covers.

And the sweet scent of lotion on Helena’s skin works as an intoxicant to Myka who confesses things she intended to keep to herself but now speaks aloud, “You are too, Helena…a good kisser I mean,” she says softly.

Helena grins. “Was there any doubt?”

Myka has to laugh at the uninhibited response, the self-assurance Helena exudes. “Never,” she answers, reaching forward to tuck a strand of dark hair behind Helena’s ear, her hand lingering to cup Helena’s cheek affectionately. 

Helena intakes a breath at the gentle touch and the warmth she sees reflected in Myka’s green eyes. But her breath must have been an audible one because the spell between them is broken almost as soon as it was cast and Myka is pulling away, her hand now tucking a curl behind her own ear as if that was her intention all along, her eyes cast down to the book still in her lap.

“We were fortunate today,” Helena goes on. “For a moment after Claudia told Abigail she overheard the news of our marriage because of Pete, I thought our entire story was going to unravel.”

“Oh my god, so did I,” Myka breathes. “We were lucky Amanda was there, otherwise it’s likely Pete would have told Abigail it was actually the sales woman at the jewelry store who told him we were married and we’d probably be sitting at an interview table tonight.”

“Yes, I’m beginning to understand all too well Scott’s quote, ‘ _O, what a tangled web we weave when first we practice to deceive_.’”

“I know,” Myka agrees. “Everything is getting more difficult.”

“I’m sorry, Myka. I didn’t want it to be like this. And I was foolish to think that a marriage between us would be only a minor detail like renewing a driver’s license. If I’d known we’d be under investigation like this I wouldn’t have…”

“What?” Myka interrupts. “Married me?”

Helena closes her mouth at the look of intensity in green eyes.

“Please don’t regret this, Helena. Even knowing everything we’ve gone through and what we still have to go through, I’d make the same choice.”

“You would?” Helena asks quietly.

“Yes,” Myka answers just as quietly.

Helena wants to ask why, but the way Myka is avoiding her gaze, obviously uncomfortable where their discussion has led, she doesn’t want to pressure her any further.

She watches silently as Myka carefully marks the page in her book with a bookmark before closing it and shifting to set in on her nightstand. Helena worries she’s somehow crossed a line and Myka will just turn off the light without saying another word.

Instead she pulls something else from her nightstand, setting it in her lap. “I finished your novel,” Myka says for a change in topic, a finger idly playing at a dog-eared corner of the manuscript. 

Now Helena is uncomfortable, wondering how Myka really feels about her work. She’d noticed Myka reading it every night over the last week but refrained from asking anything, knowing Myka would tell her when she was ready. “Well then, let’s have it. You hate it, don’t you?” Helena asks more calmly than she feels.

“No, I don’t hate it,” Myka quickly refutes. “Why would you even think that?”

“But you didn’t love it?” Helena presses taking in the way Myka bites at her lip nervously. “I know you finished reading it a few nights ago but you haven’t brought it up until now.”

Myka sighs then. “I wanted to read it again before talking to you about it. I’ve almost finished my second read through of it. The first time I was just so enraptured to realize that you’d written a novel that I didn’t want my awe of that to outweigh the true merit of it.”

“The consummate editor,” Helena can’t help but speak fondly. 

“Your story, the plot is intriguing, full of potential.”

“But?” Helena raises a brow, encouraging Myka to elaborate.

Myka smiles. “But…well…” she hesitates, biting at her lip again. “When did you write this?”

Helena feels her stomach churn at the question. “Why do you ask?”

“It just seems…a little unbalanced. Initially the protagonist is full of - I don’t know…”

“Joie de vivre,” Helena smiles wanly.

“Yes!” Myka agrees. “But then things turn stark unexpectedly, alarmingly so. It’s like life, that happiness and excitement she had is sucked out of her without any explanation.”

Helena leans her head back against the headboard, twisting the duvet in her hands until pulling it further up her chest feeling a chill in the air. She absently plays with her wedding ring, twisting it around her finger, aware that Myka is waiting for an explanation. 

“Helena? What is it?” Myka asks gently, noticing the way Helena twists her ring. “What happened when you were writing this? Was it your mom? Is this when she…”

Helena nods. “You’re very perceptive, Myka,” she says then clears her throat of the rising emotion. “I started writing that story when my mother was alive and well and there was no thought that things would change anytime soon. She knew I was writing it - wanted to read what I’d written but I didn’t want her to read it until it was finished. She waited so patiently, Myka.”

Hearing the tears in Helena’s voice, Myka reaches out to take Helena’s hand in hers, offering what little comfort she can. Helena grips it tightly.

“I was so young, so full of life I couldn’t even see what was right in front of me. My father told me after she passed suddenly that it was cancer. She didn’t want Charles or I to know. She didn’t want us to worry, to put our lives on hold for her. She didn’t want to be a burden to us. As if she could possibly have been that,” Helena shakes her head vehemently. “I had been home just the weekend before for a visit. She had talked and laughed as if nothing was wrong. Two days later she was gone.

“I was devastated and angry. I was angry with her for not telling me she was ill. I had no time to prepare myself for losing her - not that anyone can truly prepare for losing a loved one. Mostly though I was angry with myself that I didn’t let her read what I’d written. If I’d only known, Myka…I would have let her read what I’d written, I’d have read it to her myself. It was no matter to her that the story wasn’t finished, she only wanted to know what was important to me - what was a part of me.”

“I’m so sorry, Helena,” Myka says softly. The words feel inadequate against such sorrow and she carefully sets the manuscript back on her nightstand so she can pull Helena to her, moving together to lie down, Myka making sure the duvet covers Helena fully. Helena’s head rests against her shoulder, tears soaking into her shirt as Helena silently cries.

Eventually Helena speaks again. “I didn’t write anything for months afterward and when my father died a year later, I came across the partially written story and found myself continuing it so that I had something to devote my attention to rather than go mad with grief. That manuscript there,” she eyes the pages on the nightstand, “is the result of my efforts, misguided as they were.

“And then I got it into my head that I must have it published. It had to be published for the dedication page.”

Myka holds Helena a little tighter at the admission, recalling the words on that page, _‘For my mother, Sarah Christina Wells, for your unwavering love_ ,’ and she wills her own tears to remain unshed.

“Since my mother was unable to read my work while living, I wanted to immortalize her with a book dedicated in her name. A book that would stand the test of time and live on for generations. It took me some time to realize that I was her remembrance…well Charles and I. And what she would have wanted more than anything was for us live our lives as we wished and to be happy.” 

“And are you?” Myka asks softly.

Curled up under warm blankets with Myka’s arms around her and Myka’s heart beating steadily against her ear the answer falls easily from her lips. “With you, Myka, yes,” Helena whispers sinking further into Myka’s embrace, feeling Myka’s arms tighten around her at the admission.

“I’m happy with you too, Helena,” Myka promises.


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another update finally! This chapter is actually intended to be much longer, but after working on it as long as I have, I thought maybe having part of it now might be better than waiting until who knows how much longer. The second half is mostly written, just trying to clean it up a bit, so I hope to post it in another week as long as I have the time and motivation to do so. As always, thank you for your patience and thank you for reading!

Helena sits on the sofa watching TV with Myka beside her reading another novel. Helena has never known anyone who reads as much as Myka does, including herself. Although at the moment, Myka isn’t reading. Her book lies forgotten in her lap as she watches the screen with interest, focused on the documentary Helena turned to on the Smithsonian channel about the Mary Celeste and the eerie disappearance of her crew.

At the moment Helena is more interested in watching Myka, the way her hair curls past her shoulders as she sits relaxed on the sofa with one leg tucked under her and a blunt fingernail tapping idly at the book in her lap while her attention is focused elsewhere. It’s all very interesting to Helena, but then, Myka always has been of her utmost interest. Her cell phone vibrating on the coffee table interrupts Helena in her casual observance of Myka and when she looks at the screen her expression is a guilty one. “It’s Charles," she tells Myka a moment before answering.

"Hello, Charles. To what do I owe the pleasure of your call this afternoon?”

"Really, Helena? I haven't spoken to you since early last week and I've heard nothing about my little gift to you and Myka, not even so much as a thank you," he says trying unsuccessfully to sound offended.

Helena can hear the grin in his voice, clearly pleased with himself and she rolls her eyes, "Yes, thank you for your gift, Charles. Myka and I enjoyed the chocolate covered strawberries and the flowers were lovely," she admits.

"And the champagne?"

"And the champagne...we haven't opened yet,” she says glancing at Myka.

"What are you waiting for, Helena?"

“Charles, champagne is usually reserved for special occasions, not a Wednesday evening after we've just finished sorting laundry."

“Any moment can become a special occasion, but that's not really what I was asking. You still haven't told Myka how you feel, have you?"

"No."

"So I repeat, what are you waiting for?"

"The right time, Charles," she answers, glancing again at Myka who turns to meet her gaze with a concerned look.

"This is like the champagne all over again. Whenever you tell her will be the right time.”

"Yes, well anyway...how are things with you? Has the weather turned colder for you already? It certainly has for us. The mornings are cold, the evenings…are colder,” she finishes lamely not knowing what else to say, especially with Myka still looking at her concerned. 

“The weather, Helena? You used to be better than that at deflection. How is Myka?"

"She's well, she and I are watching a documentary at the moment, that you’re interrupting.”

“Helena,” Myka chastises in protest.

“It’s alright, Myka,” she assures. “My brother is well aware the nuisance he is to me, isn’t that right, Charles?”

Charles chuckles loudly. “I understand now all the deflection. Well, since Myka is there, may I say hello to her?"

"Why exactly?" Helena asks immediately suspicious to his motive. 

"To welcome her to the family of course."

"And that's all?"

"Of course."

"Hmm. I don’t believe that’s all you want so I’ll put you on speaker phone so you can say hello under my supervision.”

"Helena…” he begins to protest. 

"Charles would like to say hello," Helena tells Myka as she turns on the speakerphone. "You're on speaker now, Charles, so go ahead and say hello to Myka."

Charles sighs annoyed. “Hello, Myka. Helena doesn’t trust her own brother, I hope you’re faring better as her wife, Myka.”

“I trust Myka implicitly,” Helena assures him, “unlike you.”

Charles laughs again. “Well at least you’re honest about that. How are you, Myka?” he asks. 

“I’m doing well, Charles, how are you?"

“Extremely well, especially now that I have so lovely a sister-in-law such as yourself."

"Oh, that's...thanks, but I thought Helena told you the truth of our circumstances,” she says shooting Helena a concerned look. 

"Indeed she did, the very truth."

"Charles," Helena says in a warning tone, her eyes darting to Myka.

"Quite the predicament our Helena has gotten herself into. It's fortunate Helena has you for her friend."

"Well the feeling is mutual," Myka says with a soft look for Helena. "And I couldn't let her be deported if I could stop it."

“Well, you could have. Not many people would do as you have done but now as I understand it, you're both under investigation?"

Myka sighs. "Yeah that part hasn't been so pleasant but we're working through it."

"Ah. And the living arrangements are going well for you both?" he asks coyly.

Myka looks at Helena who only rolls her eyes at his question.

"Um, yeah, we're doing okay, adjusting."

"I've finally gotten all of my things moved, my apartment leased, so that's progress," Helena tells him.

"Certainly, that's progress. Has anything else…progressed?"

Myka looks at Helena quizzically as she quickly turns off the speakerphone. "Charles and his jokes," she tries to explain as she rises from the sofa. "Excuse me please as I berate him in private."

Myka looks after her with a grin, grateful not for the first time she grew up with a sister. Though having Pete in her life has been very much like having an annoying brother so she can sympathize with Helena at the moment.

Helena retreats to their bedroom, sitting on the edge of the bed as she resumes the conversation. "Do you enjoy tormenting me?"

Charles laughs. "Perhaps a little. The opportunity was too good to pass up, but I didn't give anything away, so relax."

"Only because I put a swift end to your line of questioning."

Charles laughs again. "Seriously, Helena, I sent you that little gift package in the hope it would inspire you to speak your heart to Myka. I take it that didn't happen."

"No," Helena says subdued. "And I appreciate the thought behind what those...romantic gifts were trying to accomplish but Myka just isn't there yet...I think."

"You think? Did something happen between you?"

Helena thinks of the kiss they shared, the near perfection of it and she sighs. "We kissed...quite passionately actually."

"Helena, that's wonderful! Why didn't you tell me sooner?"

"Because it's not what you think, Charles," she says. "We were moving the rest of my belongings into the apartment. All our friends were here, one thing led to another and I happened to catch sight of our investigator standing in the open doorway observing us so I kissed Myka."

"I see. But you said the kiss was passionate?"

"It was, very," she says remembering the moment with vivid clarity. "But unfortunately we haven't repeated the occurrence. It was just for show after all."

“Just for show - are you certain about that, Helena? You said you initiated the kiss correct?"

"Yes, to placate Ms. Cho."

"But Myka kissed you back, didn't she?"

"Yes," Helena draws out.

"Did she see Ms. Cho at the time?"

Helena considers the question. She remembers whispering to Myka about trusting her, and she remembers Myka beginning to ask her a question before Helena rendered her speechless. She surprised Myka with that kiss, she wasn't aware Abigail was present, which means...Myka kissed her back...really kissed her, not for some show for Abigail. But then again, everyone else was present as well; she could have just assumed Helena kissed her to satisfy their need for something more tangible between the newlyweds.

"Helena? Did Myka know Ms. Cho was there?" Charles repeats.

"No, I don't think she did, but it doesn't necessarily mean anything. All of our friends happened to be present as well and they were moments before complaining that we weren't showing much affection the way they expected a newly wed couple would show. Myka could just as easily assume I kissed her to show them otherwise."

Charles sighs heavily. "Can't anything be simple between you two?" he groans.

"It just depends on what aspect of our relationship. Friendship has absolutely been simple and easy from the moment we met. As for romance, that seems not to fare as well as you’re aware.”

"Just tell her already, Helena. One way or another, the truth will set you free.”

“Spewing proverbs at me now, Charles, really?” she rolls her eyes.

“You obviously need it. But seriously, Helena, just tell her already. She deserves to know.”

“Yes, well, I will consider your advice, but if I am to tell Myka I love her, I have to do it on my own terms, Charles. And I’m not ready to share that bit of information with her just yet.”

“Fine, it’s your life. I’d just rather see you happy sooner than later. Anyway, keep me informed of your situation. I can pick you up from the airport when you’re deported if it comes to that.”

“Very funny, Charles.”

“I thought so. Take care of yourself, Helena, and take care of that beautiful wife of yours too,” he says before ending the call.

Helena remains sitting on the bed she shares with Myka, staring at the phone in her hands for a very long time. 

***

“Myka, hey!” comes a familiar voice from behind as Myka stands in line for coffee. She spins around at the sound to be greeted by the sight of Sam smiling down at her.

“We meet again at long last,” he says, blue eyes bright. “It’s funny how we keep bumping into each other like this, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, I guess it is,” Myka returns the smile. “But then again we do work in the same building - it’s not altogether surprising.”

“Ah, I don’t know about that. A building that houses thousands of workers and the two of us keep randomly meeting? I’d like to think it’s more than coincidence. But then again, maybe that’s just wishful thinking on my part. I can’t help but enjoy these random meetings with a beautiful woman,” he admits.

Myka feels a blush rising in her cheeks. Beautiful? Is Sam flirting with her? Helena said that he…that he fancied her - could that be true? Is Sam interested in pursuing a romantic relationship with her? Myka is trying to form a response but short of blurting out that she’s married, she doesn’t know what to say. Should she tell him she’s flattered but unavailable? And what if he’s really not interested in her that way - she’d just embarrass herself. 

She’s saved from saying anything for the moment as the line moves forward and it’s her turn to order. With an apologetic look at Sam, she steps up to the counter to place her order. Coffee for her, tea for Helena and looking over the selection of pastries, she smiles at the sight of blueberry scones. Helena has a weakness for scones of any flavor and imagining the way brown eyes will light up at the savory treat, Myka adds a scone to her order. If she’s lucky, Helena may even share it with her. 

Myka waits for her drink order to be filled, hoping that it will be done before Sam can approach her again to resume their brief but awkward conversation. Her hope is in vain.

“Two drinks?” he asks coming up beside her.

“Yeah,” Myka nods. “Coffee for me and tea for Helena.”

“The woman in the elevator with you the last time we met, right?”

“Yes.”

“You two are close friends?”

Myka wants to laugh at the understatement that is and also cry because for being married, they are surely not as close as she desires to be. “You could say that, yes,” she says instead.

“It’s good to have close friends,” Sam smiles. 

Myka is grateful when her order is called and for the second time in minutes she casts an apologetic glance to Sam before turning away. Carrying a cup in each hand and carefully balancing the little bag with Helena’s scone as well, Myka turns to leave but a hand along her arm halts her progress and she is once again staring up into Sam’s blue eyes. 

“Myka, since we have met up again, I’ve been meaning to ask for a while now…I wondered if you want to go out for drinks or maybe dinner some time?”

And there it is. Sam is definitely interested in her. “Sam, I’m sorry,” Myka shakes her head. She raises her left hand, resting it lightly against her chest, her thumb grazing the ring she wears. “I’m married.” 

Sam follows her movement, noticing the wedding band for the first time. “Oh,” he says taken aback. “I didn’t realize. I never noticed you wearing a ring before…” his sentence dropping off as he fumbles for something else to say.

“No,” Myka shakes her head, “and you wouldn’t have. I was married very recently. Almost three weeks ago actually.”

“Oh,” Sam repeats, rocking on his heels as he stuffs his hands in his pockets in obvious disappointment. “Well, whoever he is, he’s a lucky guy to have you, Myka.” 

“Thanks,” Myka says ducking her head. “But I think I’m the lucky one to have _her_.”

“Her?” he asks surprised.

“Yeah. Helena is my wife,” Myka says, feeling her lips part into a wide smile at that sentence.

“Oh. Wow. So you were already married that day she was with you in the elevator?”

“Yeah,” Myka nods unable to keep the smile from her face.

“You didn’t introduce her as your wife then. Just a friend and coworker,” he says confused.

“Well it was still so new at the time,” she tries to explain.

Sam raises a questioning brow.

“We eloped actually and…and it’s sort of a long story,” Myka diverts.

“And not really any of my business, sorry,” Sam apologizes. He sighs then, a look of regret passing in his eyes for what might have been. “I guess there’s nothing more to say other than I wish you and your wife all the best, Myka.”

“Thanks, Sam,” Myka says. “Well, I should get back. Helena will be waiting for her tea.”

“And you, I imagine. See you around, Myka,” he smiles watching her walk out of the little cafe leaving him behind. 

***

Helena is on the phone when Myka returns to the office so she stands in the doorway of Helena’s office, waiting for Helena to notice her. Turning in her chair Helena catches sight of her, lips falling into an easy smile and she gestures for Myka to come inside.

Myka sets Helena’s tea in front of her before sitting in a chair across the desk from her to sip at her own coffee, patiently waiting for Helena to finish her call. 

“Thank you for the tea, darling,” Helena says a few moments later after ending her call. Taking a sip she sighs contentedly. 

“I brought you a scone too,” Myka says pushing the bag across the desk.

“You’re an angel,” Helena says dark eyes alight as she slips the pastry from the bag. “I’m ravenous. Client phone calls have that affect on me.”

Myka laughs before taking a sip of her coffee. 

“Do you want some?” Helena asks breaking off a piece.

“Sure, thanks,” Myka says taking the offered piece of scone and chewing thoughtfully.

“What’s on your mind?” Helena asks. 

Looking up startled, Myka shakes her head. “What do you mean?”

“Something is bothering you.”

“How do you know that?”

Helena shrugs. “You have a certain look in your eyes when you’re worried about something.”

Myka sighs. “In the cafe just now, I ran into Sam.”

“Oh?” Helena asks, setting down her half-eaten scone, suddenly devoid of any appetite.

“Yeah,” Myka licks at her lips nervously. “He asked me to dinner.”

“I see,” Helena nods. “And you want to go to dinner with him?”

“What? No,” Myka shakes her head adamantly. “No, I told him…that I’m married to you,” she says feeling her cheeks burn, barely meeting Helena’s eyes.

“Oh. And you’re sure you don’t want to go out with him?” she asks worried.

“I’m not interested in Sam, Helena. He’s a nice man by what I’ve gathered on a few brief meetings with him in elevators, hallways and getting coffee, but I don’t want to go out with him.”

“Alright. Good,” Helena settles back in her chair taking another sip of her tea. “We should go out to dinner tonight,” she says suddenly.

“What? I thought we made plans to go out Friday night.”

“Yes, well, why wait? We’re both responsible adults. The laundry can wait and we can go out on a week night and still show up to work on time the next morning.”

“Of course, but I just thought…I mean…never mind,” Myka stutters, unsure why she’s so flustered by Helena’s proposal. She’s had a larger one from the woman after all.

“It won’t be anything formal, just dinner, Myka.”

“Okay.” 

“Lovely. After work tonight then,” Helena smiles taking another bite of her scone with renewed confidence. 

***

Helena arrives at Myka’s office door promptly at six later that evening. “Ready for our date night?” Helena asks stepping inside Myka's office at the end of the workday.

Myka can't contain he involuntary flutter at the mention of the word date and the connotations it brings, and the flutter only grows stronger at the sight of Helena in her doorway smiling at her, for her.

"Yeah, I'll just get my coat," she responds standing from her desk to move to the coat rack. Helena beats her to it, holding the coat open for her.

"Allow me," she says as she helps Myka slip into it, her hands lingering on Myka's shoulders for a tad longer than necessary before moving them to untuck curly strands from the collar.

"So where are we going?" Myka asks adjusting the coat collar further before buttoning the coat closed.

"It's a surprise," Helena tells her, eyes shining. "But I thought we could walk there, so maybe it won't be such a surprise after all."

"Well that does narrow the field a little, but there are still a lot of restaurants within walking distance from here. Still, are you sure you want to walk? I know how easily you get cold," Myka says concerned.

"I'll be fine for a short walk. Shall we then," she says offering Myka her arm.

Myka takes it without hesitation, trying to ignore the increase of fluttering in her stomach, still getting used to being close enough to Helena to smell the fragrance of her shampoo.

Leena catches them on their way out and grins at them. "Goodnight, ladies, enjoy your evening together."

"We shall, thank you, Leena. See you tomorrow," Helena replies as she and Myka step out of the office to ride the elevator down to the lobby.

The air is definitely cold when they step onto the sidewalk in front of the building and Helena intakes a sharp breath.

"Are you sure you wouldn't rather drive to wherever we're going for dinner?" Myka asks again.

"No, no, I'll be fine," Helena insists. "Especially if you allow me to burrow into your side?" she asks looking hopeful.

Myka laughs, feeling warmth spread through her that is more than the result of pulling Helena closer against her. "Burrow away."

They walk three blocks in the cold, the street paralleling them loud with traffic before Helena stops abruptly. "Here we are then," she says only letting go of Myka only to open the door for her.

Myka grins broadly at her. "Pellegrino's."

Helena shrugs nonchalantly, trying not to reveal how much the sight of Myka smiling at her so affects her in such a way to make her weak in the knees. "You mentioned our first dinner together here the other night and it occurred to me it's been some time since we returned."

"It has," she agrees.

"Well then, let's not wait any longer. Our table awaits."

Their table is in a quiet corner near a window that allows them a view of people walking along the sidewalk and of the steady traffic flow in the street just beyond. Myka removes her coat, draping it across the back of her chair, turning back to see Helena do the same with hers across the table.

For a moment when their eyes meet, neither knows quite what to say, both knowing this time dinner together is meant to be significant. It's meant to be a date - what exactly that will entail, neither is certain.

"Well, this is a bit awkward, isn't it?" Helena is the first to venture breaking the ice.

"It is a little," Myka agrees. "I mean, I just don't know what to expect or what to say...god it's been too long since I've been on an actual date," she laughs at herself. She's grateful when the waiter comes to their table to fill their water glasses and take their drink order. Now at least she has something to do as she takes a sip of water and even when she's finished, she idly turns the glass in circles with her fingertips.

Helena notices the nervous action and tries to set Myka's mind at ease. "I really have no expectations for tonight, Myka. There's no reason tonight has to go any differently than all the other times we've been out together. As I mentioned before, I just thought having date nights might help our circumstance - to make our marriage feel more real, rather than only friends living together.”

And there it is in black and white; Helena doesn't intend this to be an actual date as a part of Myka had let herself hope. It’s only to help play their part as a happily married couple. “Right. More real,” she nods in understanding. 

Inwardly she deflates a little at the realization tonight is nothing more than an act and she’s never been more grateful to see a waiter arrive with her drink, taking a large swallow of the wine the moment he sets the glass on the table. If Helena notices her unusual action, she doesn't say anything, only giving her dinner order to the waiter. After Myka does the same, the waiter scurries away leaving women alone once more in silence.

Noticing the way Myka seems to have withdrawn suddenly, Helena leans forward across the table to ask, “Myka, have I done something wrong?" 

Myka glances up startled, seeing the worry in Helena's eyes. "No, you didn't do anything," she assures.

“It’s just - you seem upset about something."

Myka shakes her head in denial. "I just don't know what to say, how to act..."

"Because it's been way to long since you've been on an actual date?" Helena repeats her words with a grin.

"Yeah, that,” Myka agrees taking another long swallow of wine.

Helena's eyes soften at the admission. "A date is just two people enjoying each other's company as they share a meal or activity the same way we have on many occasions too numerous to count. Tonight is no different than those other times."

"Then why call it a date at all?" Myka rebuts. 

"Would it help you relax if we didn't call it such?"

Myka shrugs. "I don't know. It’s just dating conjures to mind romance, and if we’re not,” she gestures with a hand between the two of them, “…I mean…you know what I mean,” she says flustered. “I’m probably overthinking this. It's just you caught me off guard that night you proposed we go on dates to keep up appearances, to help us get in he mindset of actually being married. I wasn't expecting it and even now it's - it's a little awkward. Dating always has been for me."

"When was the last time you were on a date?" Helena asks curious, trying not to dwell on the romance aspect of dating Myka alluded to and the lack of it in their particular situation. 

Myka takes another sip of her wine before answering. “About two months ago. But before that there was only Jeff," she answers quietly, her gaze intent on the texture of the tablecloth rather than Helena's sympathetic eyes.

"Myka, you dated him over a year ago. There's only been one date since him?” she asks surprised.

“No. Technically there were three dates, though all with the same person. But it's not like there haven't been others who have asked me..."

"Like Sam," Helena interrupts still slightly jealous about his intention towards Myka.

"Today was the first time Sam ever broached the subject of going on a date."

"That may be true but I’m quite sure the subject has been on his mind for some time. But enough of him, why didn't you date those others who asked you then?" Helena persists.

Myka shifts in her chair, unsure how exactly to answer that question. Oddly enough, it's only since she's been married to Helena that she’s come to realize the reason for not accepting those offers for dinner or even just a drink is that no one could compare to Helena, even in only a platonic way. Helena is more interesting and effervescent than anyone else who has came along. Quite simply, given the choice, Myka prefers Helena's company to anyone else. In hindsight, that really should have been another clue that her feelings for Helena were stronger than friendship.

Instead she tells her the partial truth. "I wasn't really interested in anyone that happened to ask."

"You could have done the asking," Helena points out, drinking her wine.

“That’s true, and I did do the asking with the last person I dated.” Myka thinks briefly about Laura, the woman she’d found on an online dating site. She had been kind and sweet, her only flaw really was that she wasn’t Helena. Even now, Myka can remember that final date, Laura kissing her goodnight and the sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach where there should have been warmth. She knew then it would never work out between them. Brushing further thoughts of Laura aside, Myka continues. 

“Anyway, after Jeff, I didn't want to get involved with anyone for a while and then, after a while, I was content just being on my own, despite my brief foray into dating again.”

Helena nods, understanding that sentiment. "You and Jeff…seemed good together,” she admits grudgingly. 

Myka laughs. “Not really. Our backgrounds were so different. We didn’t have much in common, aside from our shared love of artwork, which I think I told you is how we met, in an art museum. Without that common interest we didn't have much else to talk about. He wasn’t an avid reader like me, I wasn’t into sports like him,” she shrugs. “We had the attraction, but without something more substantial to grow from, it all fell to pieces. That and he was away for work so much, our relationship didn’t have much of a chance to develop.”

"I'm sorry, Myka. You were so quiet about the breakup when it happened, I didn't want to pry at the time."

"You were there for me when I needed you, brought dinner and wine to my place more than once as I recall. Besides, I'm better off without him."

"I won't argue with that," Helena grins, lifting her glass in a toast.

"I would have done the same for you, you know," Myka says quietly.

"The same?" Helena questions.

"Been there for you after you broke up with Giselle. I could have brought you dinner and wine, listened if you wanted to talk.”

"Yes well that really wasn't necessary," Helena fidgets uncomfortably.

"Why? Why didn't you want me to know her?" Myka asks. She asked once before, she knows there's no reason to believe Helena will answer differently now but she asks anyway.

"It wasn't going to last, Myka. There was no reason for you to know her."

"But she must have meant something to you, didn't she?"

"Of course she did. And if things had been different, our relationship might have evolved into something stronger but it wasn't meant to be and we didn't exactly part on good terms," she confesses, pushing her hair back in a nervous gesture.

"I didn't even know you'd officially broken up until that day we...well essentially when we became engaged to marry," she frowns.

"I didn't know you cared so much about my relationship status."

"I just want you to be happy."

"I'm happy now," Helena tells her, "here with you. Though I would be happier if we could direct this conversation elsewhere than our previous relationships. I'm sorry I asked about Jeff. I think I've just been stuck on the thought of Sam asking you to dinner this morning that I haven't been able to get it off my mind. But tonight is meant to be our night together, not a time for past or possible suitors to get in he way."

"Sam asking me out bothered you that much?" Myka asks.

"What do you think?" Helena huffs.

"But why?"

"Because he could ruin our…arrangement,” Helena falters for a truthful answer that won’t give away her true feelings.

“I see,” Myka nods. “But only if I wanted to go out with him and I thought I'd made clear I have no intention or interest, for that matter, in doing that.”

Helena sighs, upset with herself for being jealous. “I know, you're right, Myka. I'm sorry. You've already assured me once you don't want to go out with him and after all you've done for me I know you would never jeopardize the delicate situation we're in now."

“No, I wouldn’t,” Myka agrees, her tone softening. “And you’re right too. Tonight is meant to be our night…on a date,” she says still flustered by the thought. She falls silent a moment, thinking. “The problem with this whole first date thing is, we’ve known each other for three years, we already know so much about each other. And though we’re still learning new things about each other after living together now, the getting to know you questions on a usual first date aren’t relevant for us. I don’t know what to talk with you about the way I would on a normal first date. I know what you do for a living, I know where you grew up, about your family, what else is there?”

“You could tell me an embarrassing story about yourself,” Helena grins. 

“Seriously?” Myka asks with a crooked smile.

“Why not? Besides, if you share yours and I’ll share mine.”

“Embarrassing story huh? But there are so many to choose from. Besides you haven’t let me live down one of my embarrassing moments spilling wine all over you, why would I want to give you more ammunition?”

Helena chuckles. “Alright then, no stories. I have sources now with which to obtain that information anyway.”

Myka rolls her eyes. “Yes, I’m sure Mom and Tracy would be more than glad to help you out there.”

Helena laughs. “Embarrassing stories aside, I like the fact we know so much about each other. I’ve never been one much for small talk as you know. And as far as this date tonight goes, we can forgo the normal conversation of a first date and just converse as we normally do. So in that spirit, how was your day?”

Myka smiles relieved with the idea of conversing as usual. “It was good. Rebecca’s novel finally went to print. She’s so excited to have her first novel published at seventy years old. Just goes to show it’s really never too late for anything, is it?”

Helena takes a deep breath at the innocent remark, looking across the table to stare into green eyes and Myka’s beautiful face illuminated by the soft light of the restaurant. “I certainly hope that’s true.”

***

Aside from the stumbling in the beginning, their date has gone well Myka thinks. But she was with Helena so how could it not? Dinner had been delicious, their conversation during the meal had ranged from light and teasing to serious and thoughtful. But it was their walk through the city after dinner that Myka most enjoyed.

The night was cool and so they had hovered close together for warmth. At one point Myka had felt Helena's warm hand slip into hers and when she glanced up, it was only to see the smallest tug of a smile on Helena's lips, as if she knew the affect her action held on Myka and was secretly pleased with herself. Myka by contrast felt conflicted. Beyond the surge of happiness was also the lingering doubt. Myka never knew if these little actions were genuine and meant something to Helena the way they did her or if it was just acting a part as if she were a method actor never quite letting go of the character, in this case the part playing a loving wife. Regardless of her doubts and overanalyzing, Myka would hold Helena's hand for as long as she let her. 

Myka wants nothing more than to take Helena's hand in hers again as they leave the parking garage of their apartment building to ride the elevator up four floors to the hallway that leads to their apartment, but she refrains. The date part of the evening is over and so too any such overtures that would be acceptable as date behavior.

But Helena seems to have other ideas for she closes her hand over Myka's just as she's about to open the door to let them inside.

Myka turns from the door to look at Helena and sees her lips lifted in a soft smile but there is uncertainty in dark eyes.

"Myka, before we go inside, I want you to know I had a lovely evening tonight."

"So did I," Myka nods somewhat shyly.

"And being that this was - _is_ a date..." Helena falters, clearing her throat from the words suddenly lodged there.

"Yes?" Myka encourages her to go on, surprised by the hesitance she's witnessing from Helena and wondering what it signifies.

"Since this is technically a date," Helena continues, "I wondered...would you allow me a kiss goodnight?"

To say that Myka is shocked by the request is an understatement and because of that shock she exhales a nervous burst of laughter. She claps her hand over her mouth the moment after but it's not soon enough as she watches Helena's face fall, her eyes darting away. "Oh, god, Helena, I'm sorry, you just surprised me," she tries to explain.

"No need to apologize, it was a foolish request..."

"It wasn’t.” Helena quirks an eyebrow at her. “I mean…it’s just we’re not really saying goodnight after all.”

“Technically that’s true.”

“And if this is a first date as you said earlier, I don’t generally kiss on a first date,” she tries to explain.

“Well, there’s a first time for everything, darling,” Helena smirks. “And this wouldn’t really be our first kiss now either, would it?” 

“The first one without a purpose.”

“Purpose?” Helena asks confused. 

“Yeah, you know, to further sell our…arrangement. What purpose would a kiss between us now serve if no one is here to observe?" Myka asks almost wishing she hadn't said anything to begin with because of course she wants nothing more than to kiss Helena, to never stop kissing her. But she also wants it to mean something and not as an excuse for their circumstance.

"Purpose,” Helena repeats as though trying to understand the meaning. "I suppose it could be practice if nothing else."

"Practice?" Myka says scrunching up her nose. "You think I need practice kissing?" she asks uncertain.

"Perhaps we should take this conversation inside," Helena sighs, pushing the door open for them to step inside.

Myka enters first, turning on the lights and feeling a wave of disappointment assault her. If only she didn't over process everything she could have been in Helena's arms at this moment kissing her.

"No, you don't need practice kissing," Helena tries to clarify as she removes her coat. "Heavens no, I thought we already established the other night that you're an excellent kisser. No, I meant it might be a good idea for you to practice being kissed."

"I don't understand, what's the difference?"

"Every time I've kissed you, you've been caught off guard. I merely wish our kissing each to become more natural so that it appears that way in front of others, namely Abigail."

“To be honest every time you've kissed me I have been startled, because every time was unexpected," Myka defends removing her own coat and sitting down on the sofa.

Helena sits close beside her, so close Myka can smell the soft scent of her, feel the warmth that radiates from her. "Exactly, it was unexpected because we're simply not used to touching each other so intimately. Which is why I think it wouldn’t hurt to practice touching that way, including kissing so that it becomes natural between us,” she says softly.

"And you...you’re sure that’s something you want?” Myka questions still so uncertain.

"I wouldn't have mentioned it if I didn't want to, Myka," and Myka feels her heart rate speed up at that word _want_ , "if I didn't think we needed to." And with that one word, _need_ it plummets again, because of course this is about necessity to their situation rather than Helena’s desire for her.

"Right, because there's so much at stake," Myka nods.

"For both of us," Helena affirms. “In fact, now may be the perfect opportunity to take up those evening make-out we discussed before,” she teases. 

Myka laughs, grateful for the break in tension and her over analyzing. “I think I’ll have to take a rain check on that tonight. I’m a little tired - not used to staying out so late on a school night I guess. I think I’ll read a little in bed, then sleep, if you don’t mind?” she says standing from the sofa. 

“Of course, Myka,” Helena says, sighing as she watches her escape down the hall to the bedroom.

 

***

Laying down in bed that night, Myka listens to the familiar sounds as Helena moves about the bedroom, putting away her clothes in the closet before finally moving to the bed, pulling back the covers. The bed dips slightly as she sits upon it and Myka soon smells the sweet fragrance of Helena's lotion fill the air. She can imagine Helena applying the lotion to her legs the way she does most every night. It's almost enough to make her want to turn over to watch the familiar sight but Myka is still debating with herself whether she should follow through on the idea that’s come to her, an idea inspired by their conversation later tonight because of a goodnight kiss that didn’t happen. 

If there is one thing she regrets about tonight's date, it's the way it ended on an awkward note. Helena had been sweet and maybe even a little vulnerable when she had asked for a goodnight kiss at their door. Myka had been stunned by the request and the outcome had not ended favorably for either of them, something she regrets now and would like to rectify if possible. 

Helena finishes applying lotion, setting the bottle on her nightstand before shuffling under the covers. "Are you asleep?" she whispers.

"No, " Myka answers her, “just thinking.”

"About anything in particular?"

Myka takes a steadying breath. Now is the perfect opportunity to follow through with her plan. She turns over to face Helena who is lying on her back, face tilted towards her now as though waiting for her. Now really would be the perfect moment to follow through on that plan...and instead Myka only says, "I had a really good time tonight...on our date."

Helena smiles softly at her. "I'm glad. I thought it went well too."

"Everything?" Myka presses, biting her lip. 

"Well, for a first date, we may have had a few hiccups but it was nothing we couldn't handle and they've made the night memorable."

"Hiccups," Myka nods, "yeah I'd say that's a good word for a few things that happened...or didn't happen tonight."

"Myka, I have no regrets about tonight, about how the night unfolded."

Myka can hear her heart beating loudly in her ears when she rises up on one elbow, angling her body slightly over Helena's, seeing brown eyes widen as they look up at her. "I do have one regret," Myka says and then she is dipping down, slowly, giving away her intention, to give Helena time to move away if she wants, but Helena remains perfectly still, waiting for Myka as her lips press against Helena's in a soft kiss.

When they part, Myka simply says, "Now seemed a more accurate moment for a goodnight kiss."

"Yes, I see your logic," Helena says slightly breathless and very much disarmed. “What happened to your rule about not kissing after the first date?”

“I changed it,” Myka grins, pleased with Helena's state. "Goodnight, Helena, she says laying back under the covers.

"Goodnight, Myka," Helena answers, uncertain what exactly has just transpired.

It's a long time before either of them falls asleep with hearts and minds racing.

***

At work the following morning, Myka tries not to focus on the kiss from the night before. She still wonders at her boldness kissing Helena while in bed last night as she did, but Helena hadn’t seemed to mind, even reciprocated the kiss. Myka can still picture the way Helena looked beneath her for that all too brief moment, the way her dark hair fanned out across the pillow, the way her brown eyes looked at her intently, full of interest and a hint of surprise at their proximity to each other. And Helena’s lips had been so soft and pliant under her own.

So much for not focusing on the kiss, she thinks, groaning in frustration with herself. Lost in her musings of the night before, she startles when her cell phone vibrates with a text message. Looking at the screen she sees it’s a text from Tracy and reads:

_I’m texting you so u don’t freak out about me calling you at work again._

Myka rolls her eyes at the message and types a reply. 

_OK - what’s up?_

_U & H invited to brunch this Sun. at our place._

_Didn’t we just do dinner?_

_2 weeks ago!_

_Your point?_

_Really???_

Myka rolls her eyes again, practically hearing the contempt in that response. And it isn’t that she doesn’t love her family, but her marriage to Helena adds a new level of complication to every interaction with them now since they believe she and Helena are in a normal, committed relationship when really their marriage is anything but normal. 

_Fine. I’ll have to check w/Helena but we can probably make it._

_Good. See you both Sunday!_

Myka sets her phone back down with a shake of her head, groaning once more for an entirely different frustration. 

***

"So Tracy texted me today while at work," Myka says while she pulls out the casserole from the oven, setting it on the stovetop to cool.

"Oh, yes? And what did she have to say?" Helena asks folding napkins to set on the dinner table.

"She invited us to brunch at her place this Sunday. I told her I'd ask you first before letting her know one way or the other but we don't have to go."

"Are your parents going to be there as well?"

"I didn’t ask, but probably. That alone is reason not to go if you don't want to."

"I want to go, Myka."

"You do?”

"Of course. It will give me another chance to win over your father," Helena says opening a drawer to pull out silverware and setting them on the table.

"Pretty sure you managed that years ago."

"Yes, well I seem to have lost some of my charm where he is concerned since becoming your wife."

Myka sighs, pulling open a cabinet to grab two glasses. "Maybe it'd be better if we skipped the brunch.”

"Until when exactly? Myka, we don't know how long this marriage is going to have to last. You heard Abigail say some cases remain open for years. Do you really expect to avoid your family that long?"

“Maybe not years," Myka concedes, "but I thought at least several weeks?"

Helena takes the glasses from Myka, filling them with water from the fridge. “Several weeks that will include four holidays and the birth of the newest family member you mean?”

Myka scrunches her nose in contemplation. “Yeah, I suppose that thought was unrealistic.”

“Just a bit,” Helena grins. “Anyway, I think the worst of the confrontation with your father is past. We reached an understanding and can move on from that."

"If you say so."

"I do. It will be all right, you'll see. So tell Tracy we'll be there.”

***

Tracy doesn’t let them help in the kitchen, instead assuring them that Kevin is helping and insisting they make themselves at home, relaxing in the living room while the final preparations are made.

“Hey, Myka, can I talk with you for a sec?" Kevin asks catching them both before they make it to the living room to join her parents and leading them down the hallway to his office. 

“What's up, Kevin?” she asks concerned.

"I've got to go out of town on business in two weeks - Halloween weekend, of all the times to be away. I won't get back until Sunday evening. Tracy’s due date isn’t until the end of November, but I really don't want to leave her alone this late in her pregnancy. I tried to get out of the trip but my company needs me to go. So I wondered, would you and Helena be willing to stay with Tracy through that weekend?"

Myka glances at Helena who nods at the request. “Yeah, of course, Kevin."

"Are you sure? It is Halloween and I’d feel bad keeping you away from any roaring party."

Myka laughs at that. "Oh yeah because we're such party-goers. Really, the most exciting thing we're likely to experience is watching Pete stuff himself with miniature candy bars and then proceed to bounce off the walls in a sugar high."

“And that’s something I prefer not to experience again,” Helena says. 

Kevin laughs. "Well if you're sure, it would really set my mind at ease knowing Tracy isn't left alone. She puts on a brave face, but as the due date gets closer, I know she's anxious. Having you both with her will help take her mind off things."

"Sure. We'll have a girls weekend, watch movies, maybe play some board games and eat way too much food all weekend, it'll be good for her.”

"Good for you too I hope."

“I’m sure it will be.”

“Thanks you guys, I owe you one,” Kevin says.

“It’s our pleasure,” Helena insists. “And Kevin.”

“Yeah?”

“That apron looks quite fetching on you,” she smirks.

Kevin looks down at the brightly colored garment complete with frills at the sleeves. “This old thing? I only wear it when I don’t care what I wear,” he teases back.

“Kevin! Where are you?” Tracy shouts from the kitchen.

“My quiche must be ready. You two go on to the living room, food should be up soon,” he says disappearing towards the kitchen. 

“Tracy, are you sure I can’t help?” Jeannie asks as they enter the room.

“No, Mom, we’ve got it,” Myka hears Tracy assure as Helena leads her by the hand to sit on the sofa. 

And Myka is getting used to the soft touches Helena bestows upon her. The slightest touch still makes her heart race but she isn’t caught off guard so much anymore, expecting the lingering touches to come. She even initiates a few touches of her own for good measure. This time she’s the one laying a hand along Helena’s thigh when they sit together on the sofa. She’s rewarded with a smile and brown eyes shining at her and Helena leaning forward to place a lingering kiss at the corner of her mouth that leaves Myka gaping for a moment until she notices Helena smirking at her. Okay, so maybe she is still caught off guard on occasion. But Myka quickly shakes off her surprise and pulls Helena a little closer to her.

“And how are the newlyweds this morning?” Warren asks watching the interaction play before him. 

“Quite well, thank you for asking,” Helena answers leaning further into Myka’s side. 

“You both look…happy.” Warren tells them somewhat gruffly. 

“It must be the extra hour of sleep this morning we had. I managed to convince Myka we could do our grocery shopping later than usual. Eight-thirty is a more civilized time for grocery shopping.”

“It was also more crowded,” Myka rebuts.

“Barely. But early Sunday morning grocery shopping schedules aside, yes, we are happy.” 

“Glad to hear it,” Warren says with a wry smile.

Brunch at Tracy's turns out to be a pleasant affair. The tension that filled the air two weeks before at her parents’ home is almost non-existent this morning. Her father, though still perhaps not entirely convinced of their reasons for marrying as they did, seems to at least accept it for the done deal that it is. He even goes out of his way to talk with Helena throughout the morning about various books they both love and Myka hears on more than one occasion laughter from her father as the result of something Helena tells him.

When brunch is finished, Myka and Helena insist on washing the dishes despite Tracy’s protests. And when a pan slips from Myka’s hands into the soapy water splashing them both, Myka chalks it up not to the way Helena has sidled up to her, splaying a gentle hand at her lower backside but rather to the surprise of Tracy calling out her name. 

“Whoa, looks like you both got a little wet there,” Tracy laughs taking a fresh dishtowel from a cabinet to hand to Helena to help dry off.

“So it seems,” Helena chuckles wiping water from her cheek before turning apologetic eyes on Myka, gently using the towel to wipe away soap suds from Myka’s cheek too, trailing lower to the nape of her neck, watching fascinated as the skin she brushes flushes a rosy hue. Helena glances up to meet Myka’s eyes, looking at her intently.

“I have plenty of blouses if either of you want to exchange your soaked shirt for a dry one,” Tracy offers.

Helena drops her gaze from Myka at the interruption, having forgotten for a moment she and Myka aren’t alone. “No thank you, my blouse isn’t too wet. But I think I will grab my coat from the closet to help ward off a chill,” she says even though at the moment all she feels is heat. “Excuse me.”

Myka watches her go with some regret. She shouldn’t have startled like that. Perhaps Helena is right and they should practice touching more intimately. She just hadn’t expected so intimate a touch when they were alone. 

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to kill the mood between you,” Tracy says.

“What? What do you mean? There was no mood,” Myka protests.

Tracy shoots her an _are you kidding me look_. “Helena looked as if she wanted to take you right against the sink.” 

“What?” Myka gulps. 

Tracy laughs. “Oh to be a newlywed again. Although Kevin and I…”

“So Trace, was there a reason you came in here?” Myka interrupts, turning back to washing dishes.

“Yes. Kevin told me you're going to stay over Halloween weekend. You know you don't have to if you don't want to," she says biting her lip the same way Myka knows she bites hers when she's uncertain.

"I know I don't have to, I want to, Trace, Helena and I both do."

"Really?" Tracy smiles hopeful.

"Absolutely. It'll be one of last weekends before the little fellow or lady gets here,” Myka smiles. “The last time we're just sisters hanging out before you’re a mom and I am an aunt."

"I know. I can hardly believe it myself some mornings until I look down at my massive stomach and realize there's a baby in here,” Tracy laughs through tears. She shakes her head trying to dispel the tears. "Uh, hormones. I swear I cry at the drop of a hat these days."

Myka quickly dries her hands on a towel. “Come here," she says pulling her into a hug. "You're entitled to cry. This is a huge change in your life. I'd be worried if you didn't cry."

"That's reassuring, I guess,” Tracy laughs.

"We're going to have a great time. We’ll hand out candy to all the trick or treaters, watch Halloween movies, and eat popcorn..."

"Ooh, I'll make chicken tortilla soup for dinner that night.” 

"Sounds great, Trace," Myka smiles.

"And you and Helena should dress in costumes for Halloween!"

Myka looks dubious. "When have you ever known me to dress up for Halloween?"

"Well, there's a first time for everything. Besides, I bet Helena wouldn't mind seeing you dressed in costume. Maybe a little French maid outfit?" Tracy smirks.

"That is so not happening. And really? You're my baby sister, you're not supposed to talk about...those kinds of things,” Myka says flustered. 

Now Tracy is the one giving the dubious look. "Oh come on, Myka, it's not like we're not both adults here and married at that. Kevin has always enjoyed..."

"Stop right there, I really don't want to know about your life in the bedroom."

"Alright fine I'll stop torturing you."

"Thank you. We'll come by after work on Friday night, so that means we'll be by your place close to seven-thirty, does that work?"

"Yes, I'll make up the guest bedroom for you. Thanks, Myka. This really means a lot to me.”

“No problem,” Myka smiles. 

Helena returns to the kitchen to find the sisters huddled together and smiles at the sight.

"Tracy, I understand Myka and I are to spend Halloween weekend with you,” she says stepping to Myka’s side. 

"Yes, Kevin is going to be away and he worries about me being left alone for any length of time this late in my pregnancy. Truthfully I worry too, so thank you for coming to the rescue of an anxious woman," she tries to laugh.

"Nonsense, it's no rescue. I'm looking forward to it. Do you get many trick or treaters?”

"We do. Pretty sure I counted at least fifty last year."

“Fifty! That’s impressive.”

Tracy laughs. “Yeah, Kevin loves it because I stock up on so much candy. I think I’ve already bought at least fifteen bags.”

“Well, Myka and I will contribute a couple more for the cause.” 

“I’d appreciate that, and I can make dinner for you both on Friday if you want."

"Oh please don't bother. It will be fairly late by the time we arrive and we can stop for a quick bite on the way."

"Alright, I'll provide dessert then. And I already told Myka I'll make up the guest room for you. I think the bed may be smaller than what you're used to, I hope you won't mind."

"Not at all, Myka and I are cuddlers, aren’t we, darling?” Helena says slipping an arm around Myka’s waist to pull her closer.

“We seem to be,” Myka answers, thinking of all the mornings they’ve woken up entwined together.

“You two are too sweet," Tracy coos. “And we’re going to have so much fun, I can hardly wait for Halloween to arrive.”

***

For all the pleasantry the day at Tracy’s has brought, it’s as they’re about to leave that leaves Myka most astonished. Her mother and father quietly present she and Helena with a small envelope and a brief exchange of words from her father. "That's from your mother and I, a marriage gift for you and Helena.”

Taken by surprise, Myka can only stare at him dumbly a moment before he motions for to her to open it. With Helena close beside her she gingerly opens the envelope, gasping when she realizes the thin slip of paper inside is a check for a rather large sum of money.

"What is this?"

"I though it would be obvious but it's money we would have spent on your wedding had you chosen to have one.”

“Warren,” Jeannie warns.

He sighs. “I only meant, since you didn't have a ceremony the way Tracy did, your mother and I thought it only fair to give you the same amount of money we spent on her wedding, so that's yours to do with as you like, a honeymoon or a down payment on a house, whatever you like."

"We can't accept this," Myka says panicked, trying to give the check back.

"Of course you can," Jeannie says pushing it back in Myka's hands. “That money has been set aside for you for years. We did the same for Tracy. She happened to use hers for a wedding reception, now this is yours."

"But Mom, it's too much," Myka protests.

"Yes, Jeannie, Warren," Helena joins her protest, “though it's very thoughtful of you, it really isn't necessary."

"We want to do this for you," Jeannie explains. “Use it for a honeymoon...or as Warren said use the money towards something that will help you."

"Mom, really..."

"Please let us do this for you," Jeannie pleads. Myka glances at Helena who merely gives a look as though to say it’s entirely Myka’s decision to accept the gift or not. 

"Okay...thank you both. This is incredibly generous of you and it will definitely...benefit us," she says stepping forward to embrace her parents in a hug.

"Yes, I can't tell you what this gesture means to both of us," Helena agrees. “There are no words to describe what this means to us,” she stutters out taking her turn to embrace both Berings.

"If we've made you speechless it must be something," Warren says somewhat uncomfortable with the blatant display of emotion from Myka and his new daughter-in-law. "We just want to see you both happy...for years to come. And maybe this can help ease the way a little."

***

Myka and Helena silently climb into the Jeep for the ride home, both in a bit of a daze at the gift bestowed upon them. Myka turns on the ignition, automatically turning the heater on high for Helena, knowing she needs the warmth, but she makes no move to pull out of the driveway, doesn't even buckle her seatbelt. Instead she stares ahead, hands resting on the wheel.

"Myka?" Helena breaks the silence softly.

"I can't believe they did that," Myka says equally softly. "I had no idea they set up some kind of fund for me like that. For me and my spouse."

"It was a very thoughtful thing to do. Most parents do help pay for weddings."

"I know, but I...I mean we didn't even have an actual wedding...that they could be part of."

"Do you regret not having a formal wedding ceremony?” Helena asks.

“You mean for a marriage that no one was supposed to know anything about?”

Helena sighs. “Yes, for that one.”

“No,” Myka answers softly. “I don’t regret not having a big wedding. If I regret anything now, the regret is for our family and friends, that they didn’t get to see us married when it’s so apparent they would have liked to.”

“I regret that too,” Helena admits, “now that I realize how important it seems to be to them all.” 

“But still, it’s better this way, since the marriage is eventually going to dissolve anyway, right?” Myka asks casting a glance at Helena.

“Of course,” Helena agrees hurriedly, trying to tamp down any feeling of disappointment. “Our marriage is only a temporary arrangement,” she says to remind herself more than Myka. 

“Yeah,” Myka says softy. The rest of the drive home passes in silence, each woman lost in her own thoughts.


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry again for the delay. I think this chapter sort of got away from me. But it's here now, filled with more mutual pining, a lack of conversation regarding said pining and a few kisses thrown in to make up for it. Hope you enjoy.

A knock sounds at the door just as Myka is taking a batch of cookies from the oven.  She curses under her breath at the intrusion, quickly discarding the oven mitt she wears to approach the door.  All too aware of who is likely on the other side, she takes a deep, steadying breath.  She’s not mistaken when she opens the door to reveal Abigail standing there.

 

“Hello, Myka,” Abigail greets her.

 

“Hi, Abigail,” Myka returns the greeting.  “I’m guessing you’re here to ask another round of questions.”

 

“It is my job,” she affirms.

 

“Right,” Myka exhales.  “Come on in then,” she says stepping aside to allow Abigail entrance inside the apartment.

 

“It smells wonderful in here,” Abigail says following Myka towards the kitchen.

 

“I’m baking ranger cookies.”

 

“Ranger cookies? I’ve never heard of those.”

 

“Yeah.  They’re basically a chocolate-chip, oatmeal cookie with coconut thrown in for good measure.  Some recipes call for walnuts too but neither Helena nor I care for those so we leave them out.  Anyway, they’re Helena’s favorite and I thought I’d surprise her with them.”

 

“She isn’t here?” Abigail asks looking around the living room, noticing it appears in much better order than it did two weeks ago on her last visit.  The bookshelves lined against the walls are now fulfilling their purpose, full of books with the occasional knick-knack dotting the shelves.

 

“No, she’s at her Kempo class.  She’s been taking classes the last couple years and a new class just started back up. She'll be there Tuesday nights for the next several weeks,” Myka explains, donning the oven mitt once more to steady the baking sheet as she removes the cookies with a spatula, placing them onto a plate.

 

“I’ll make a note of that for future reference,” Abigail says. "You aren't interested in taking Kempo classes too?”

 

"It's not that I'm not interested, I just prefer other means of working out. I have gone with Helena on several occasions before. She's quite a sparring partner," Myka says with a grin, remembering an occasion Helena managed to pin her to the floor. Not to be outdone, Myka returned the favor with the next match. They called a truce and she hasn't attended a class since. Now that she thinks of it, perhaps it would be a good time to go back.

 

“Go ahead and sit at the table,” Myka encourages as she continues to plate the cookies.  “Helena and I were just discussing the other night that you didn’t make a weekly visit last week.”

 

“I did actually, but it appeared you were both out for the evening,” Abigail says pulling a notebook from her satchel and beginning to write.

 

“Oh?  What night?” Myka asks.

 

“Thursday.”

 

“That's right. Helena and I went out to dinner that night…on a date,” she says awkwardly, feeling her face flush in remembrance of that night.

 

“A date?”

 

“Yeah. Technically we are still dating even though we’re married now.  Last Thursday we went to dinner, this Friday we’re planning to see a movie.  You know, the normal date activities.”

 

“I see.  And how is the living arrangement?  I imagine it has to be a bit of an adjustment for you both, considering you weren’t living together before marrying so suddenly.”

 

“It’s still an adjustment,” Myka admits with a laugh.  Finished plating the first batch of cookies, she begins scooping spoonfuls of cookie dough onto the sheet for the second batch.  “There are things that drive us both crazy but we’re learning to deal with it.”

 

“No deal breakers then I take it?”

 

Myka shakes her head.  “I’m not going to divorce Helena just because she forgets to make the bed on occasion - or every other day as seems to be the case,” she says with a hint of exasperation. “She’s trying, we both are and that’s what matters.”

 

“And your family still approves of the match?”

 

“My family adores Helena, they always have,” Myka answers, avoiding any mention of the brief strain between her father and Helena after he first learned of their marriage.  A strain that has disappeared as suddenly as it manifested, given her parents’ gift to them.  “In fact, we were just over to my sister’s house on Sunday for brunch.  I have a feeling these family meals are going to become a regular occurrence now,” she says placing the cookie sheet inside the oven and setting the timer.

 

“They weren’t before you married Helena?”

 

“Not really,” Myka answers, placing the bowel in the sink and filling it with hot water and dish soap to soak.  “I love my family, but usually I only see them for the holidays, with scattered visits here and there in between.  But I think Helena really enjoys being a part of that family atmosphere again.  Her parents both passed away years ago and with her brother in London, I think the interaction with my family, now her family too, is something she didn’t realize she needed.  It’s been good for everyone.”

 

After drying her hands on a dishtowel, Myka carries the plate of cookies to the table, setting them down in front of Abigail.    

 

“Would you like a cookie?”

 

Abigail looks conflicted.  “I really shouldn’t accept, but they smell too good to pass up,” she smiles taking one.  “Thank you.”

 

“Sure.  Would you like some milk to go with it?”

 

“No thank you, water would be fine.”

 

Myka fills a glass of water for Abigail and pours a tall glass of milk for herself, taking them both to the table as she sits down.  Abigail is nearly finished with her cookie before Myka takes the first bite of hers.

 

“These really are delicious, Myka, thank you,” Abigail says again.

 

“They are good,” Myka agrees, savoring the morsel.  “Helena has been a bad influence on me.  I didn’t used to be so susceptible to sweets but ever since she moved in, it’s been ice cream, cookies, even chocolate covered strawberries once,” she says with a shake of her head.  “We hardly ever go without dessert, something I used to always skip before.  It’s a wonder I haven’t gained ten pounds already.  But running on the weekends seems to help with that.”  Myka pushes the plate of cookies closer to Abigail.  “Help yourself to more if you want.”

 

“Oh no, one is plenty, thank you.  I was glad to meet your friends on my last visit,” Abigail says getting down to business.   “Meeting them afforded me some insight into your relationship with Helena I wouldn't have had otherwise.”

 

Myka senses the shift in tone.  “Oh?” she asks, feeling the cookie she had been eating become lodged in her throat.  She takes a swallow of milk to wash it down. "What kind of insight exactly?"

 

"They are obviously all in favor of you and Helena being in a relationship, they seemed...relieved that you are finally together, as though they couldn't believe it had actually happened."

 

Myka chuckles nervously. "Yeah, it was a bit of a surprise to them all, but I think we already explained why we kept our relationship quiet."

 

"Yes, you did," Abigail agrees. "But I can't help wondering why if you told Pete about your marriage why not tell everyone else? Based on what your friend Claudia said, the only reason she and everyone else learned of your marriage was because they overheard Pete mention it."

 

Myka can feel herself begin to sweat under these questions that are beginning to feel like an interrogation. She forces herself to take a steadying breath before answering. 

 

"Pete finding out the way he did, when he did was unplanned,” Myka carefully explains.  “He started talking about marriage because he wants to propose to Amanda and he was worried that marriage would somehow change things between them.  I was trying to assure him a marriage between them wouldn’t change their feelings for each other and that’s when my marriage to Helena sort of slipped out.  But Helena and I did discuss telling him.”

 

“Only him?” Abigail persists. 

 

Myka is trying to think of an adequate response when she is interrupted by the timer beeping to announce the second batch of cookies is ready. 

 

“Sorry, I need to get those,” she apologizes, jumping from her chair to take the cookies from the oven.  She can feel Abigail watching her, studying her as she transfers the cookies from the sheet onto another plate but doesn't answer the question.

 

Myka carries the plate to the table, setting it down beside the other.

 

“Would you care for another cookie?” she asks taking one for herself and breaking it in half and slipping a piece into her mouth.

 

“No, thank you.  Myka, you didn’t answer my question," Abigail points out gently. “Why only tell Pete and not the rest of your friends? You would have had to tell them eventually, right? Unless…"

 

Knowing Abigail is about to come to the correct conclusion, Myka interrupts. "We would have told everyone eventually. Of course we would have. I mean it’s not like we could keep something this significant a secret for very long.” Though that had been exactly their intention before it all feel to pieces only days after being married. “We’re living together, of course our family and friends were going to notice that eventually. And my sister figured it out we were married far quicker than I ever imagined,” she says nervously turning the wedding ring around her finger, recalling how its presence is what gave them away to Tracy that fateful morning.

 

“So you didn’t tell your family about your marriage either?” Abigail asks.

 

“What?” Myka startles.

 

“You just said that your sister figured out you were married, suggesting you didn’t actually tell her as I was under the impression before. Is that not the case?”

 

“She noticed my wedding ring before I could tell her,” Myka explains, biting her lip as she notices Abigail jotting down more notes.

 

“Myka, I can tell that you and Helena care for each other deeply, but I want to reiterate how serious this situation is that you find yourselves in.  If this is found to only be a marriage for the sake of keeping Helena from being deported, you could be charged with a fine of thousands of dollars, possibly worse.  I truly don’t want to see that happen to you.”

 

“What exactly are you suggesting?” Myka asks quietly.

 

“I’m suggesting, that if you were to confess now that this marriage is only a means to help out a friend, I can make sure no charges are pressed against you.  I can’t guarantee the same if we proceed to a formal interview with my agency,” she explains not unkindly.

 

Myka nods.  “I understand what you’re saying, I do.  But my feelings for Helena are genuine.”

 

“I didn’t say they weren’t, but…”

 

“I love her.  I’m…in love with her,” Myka interrupts awkwardly, uncomfortable with speaking the truth about feelings that are so personal.  Feelings she hasn’t voiced aloud to anyone except Pete very briefly, and even he doesn’t know the full context of them.  Feelings she hasn’t dared voice to Helena, too afraid they won’t be reciprocated.  

 

“I’ve been in love with her for a long time, long before we married or started dating.  I just didn’t fully realize it until the moment we were faced with the possibility of separation,” she chokes out a laugh, still nervously twisting the ring around her finger.  “I honestly don’t care what happens to us as long as we’re together.  If your agency is set on deporting Helena, we’ll pack up tonight and move to London if we have to.”

 

“You’d leave your family, friends and career all behind?” Abigail asks.

 

“Helena is my family,” Myka answers quietly but firmly.    

 

Abigail begins to say something more but is interrupted by a sound that Myka has never been so grateful to hear.

 

The lock turns in the door before Helena calls out, "Myka, I'm home.”  She drops her gym bag on the floor with a thud before glancing up to realize Myka isn’t alone; that they have a guest at their table.

 

"Oh, hello, Abigail," she greets cheerfully, crossing the room to join them.  “My goodness, what smells so heavenly in here?”

 

“I made cookies for you,” Myka answers.

 

“You did?” she asks surprised and then, “You did,” Helena smiles wide as she notices the plates of cookies on the table.  “My favorite by the looks of them.  Thank you, darling," Helena says, leaning down slowly, making her intention clear before claiming Myka's lips in a kiss, smiling into that kiss as she feels Myka's hand cup her cheek to pull her in closer, extending the kiss. "Miss me?" Helena husks when they part.

 

“You know I did,” Myka says softly, still cupping her cheek, her thumb tracing Helena’s lips.

 

Helena smiles softly at the touch. She knows Myka’s answer is more likely from having to entertain Abigail on her own rather than her absence but her heart races regardless, still feeling that kiss on her lips. She swipes a cookie from one of the plates, taking a generous bite, moaning appreciatively at the taste.  “These are wonderful, thank you, Myka,” she says before finally sitting down in a chair beside her.

 

“You’re welcome,” Myka smiles.  She studies Helena a moment, taking in the glow of her skin lightly streaked with sweat from her workout.  Her long hair is pulled back in a messy bun, loose tendrils falling down her neck and without thought, Myka reaches a hand to Helena’s hair, carefully pulling the hair tie away, letting dark locks fall in waves across slim shoulders, a sight that has always made Myka’s heart clench with longing.  She continues to lightly trail her fingers through the glossy tresses, smoothing away any tangles and gently massaging Helena’s scalp.

 

“Mmm, that feels lovely, thank you, Myka,” Helena hums contentedly, trying to ignore the pleasant coiling in her stomach at the unexpected touch.  “Maybe later you would be amendable to giving me a massage?  I think I may have strained some muscles.”

 

“Not your back?” Myka asks instantly worried.  “I asked you if resuming Kempo class now was too soon.”

 

“My back is fine, I was very careful. Besides, Wolly has returned as my sparring partner,” she says nibbling on her cookie.

 

“Oh,” Myka relaxes. “Is he any better?”

 

“Not much.  Poor Wolly spent more time on the mat than on his feet,” Helena chuckles.  “And he’s the reason why I’m late getting home. 

 

“Wolly is from London as well so we spent some time reminiscing about the city,” Helena explains to Abigail.  “He seemed a little homesick.”

 

“Do you miss London?” Abigail asks.

 

“Of course I do,” Helena affirms.  “London will always be dear to my heart, but now Denver has my heart as well,” she says with a look at Myka.  “But what have I missed here?” she asks finishing her cookie and taking a drink of milk from Myka’s glass to wash it down with.

 

“I was discussing with Myka your new living arrangements, asking how that’s been going since you appear to be fully moved in now,” Abigail tells her.

 

“Thankfully so,” Helena agrees.

 

“Have the new living arrangements been awkward, since you went from barely dating to married and living together in such a short span of time?” Abigail asks.

 

“It’s been an adjustment.  Cramming my things into this apartment has been a challenge, and we’ve had to work on some personal quirks as well,” she says glancing at Myka with a smile.  “I tend to be a tad more disorganized than I know Myka would prefer, but nothing so terrible to lead to any major argument so far.  If anything, Myka sighs in annoyance and I try to right whatever it is I’ve done to offend,” she laughs.

 

“That goes both ways,” Myka jumps in.  “I’m trying to be more patient, letting Helena do things in her own time. Like making the bed issue I mentioned to you earlier.  Before we lived together, making the bed was always the first thing I did after getting up in the morning.  Helena prefers to make it after she’s showered and dressed.”

 

“Plus my feeling on the matter is why bother making up the bed when we’re just going to mess it up again anyway?  Frequently as the occasion warrants,” Helena smirks.

 

Myka’s eyes widen at the insinuation.  “Helena,” she warns under her breath, emitting a chuckle from the other woman.

 

“Really, Myka, still bashful after weeks of marriage and all the delights it’s brought?” she asks, placing a hand on Myka’s thigh and leaning in to brush a kiss against her cheek. “I do so love it when you blush.”

 

“Helena, please stop talking,” Myka begs, feeling the blush Helena alluded to rise to her cheeks as she avoids Abigail’s eyes.

 

“As you wish, love,” Helena laughs, her hand squeezing Myka’s thigh.

 

“I’m glad to hear things are going so well,” Abigail tells them.

 

***

 

“That seemed to go well, don’t you think?” Helena asks after Abigail leaves, encouraged by the visit and the conversation that ensued.

 

“Sure, fine. Look, I’m going to deposit the money my parents gave us into a joint bank account,” Myka says starting down the hallway towards their office.

 

“Joint bank account? Why?” Helena asks confused.

 

“I already added your name to the lease, right?” Myka asks.

 

“Weeks ago, but what is this about?” Helena repeats, following Myka into the office, watching helplessly as she turns on her laptop and starts searching the Internet. “Why are you opening a joint bank account?”

 

“We need to get some things in order.”

 

“What sort of things?”

 

Myka scrolls through a website. “We only glanced at this briefly before, but it looks like if we have to be interviewed, it would be better if we’re able to show our names have been formally changed. We’ll have to update our driver’s licenses, social security cards, bank accounts, and insurance information. We haven’t filed a joint tax return yet, but if this investigation lasts much longer, we’ll have to be sure to do that too.”

 

“Myka, what is this all about?” Helena asks.

 

“You’ve been sharing the payments, but I should add your name to the utility bills and once we open the joint bank account, it would be a good idea to keep adding part of our salaries to it, at least for the duration of this investigation,” Myka rambles on.

 

“Myka!” Helena yells to get her attention. Seeing worried green eyes focus on her at last, she asks concerned, “What did Abigail say to you tonight?”

 

Myka looks away before answering. “She tried to get me to confess that our marriage is a fraud. She told me if I confessed tonight, she could make sure no charges would be filed against me, something she emphasized she wouldn’t be able to ensure if it ends up we are interviewed and found to be lying about our situation.”

 

“Oh,” Helena says, dropping into the chair at her desk, her face pale with the thought of all that is at stake. “Perhaps you should take her up on the offer,” she says quietly.

 

Myka turns her attention from the computer screen to stare at Helena. “What? You can’t be serious?”

 

“Myka, I’m trying to be noble for once. I’m thinking of you…of the repercussions you could face if we should be found out after all. I don’t want to see you charged, criminally or financially. Nor do I want to see your reputation ruined, possibly cost you your career, all for nothing.”

 

“ _You_ are not nothing, Helena,” Myka replies upset. “We’ve already come this far…”

 

“It’s only been a few weeks, Myka! Are you prepared for this to go on for years if necessary? To sacrifice your life, your happiness for a…a friend when you could instead be sharing a life with someone whom you truly love?” she asks incredulous.

 

If only she knew the truth, Myka thinks. If only she were brave enough to tell Helena the truth. That despite waking up some nights, worried about the consequences their marriage could have on them, on their family and friends, she’s more worried of the night she wakes without Helena there beside her. But even if their marriage does eventually end, she’d rather have Helena in her life as a friend than not at all.

 

“It could take years for this to be resolved, Myka,” Helena says quietly. “It isn’t fair to you.”

 

“Then we need to make sure this investigation doesn’t last years. We need to up our game again. We need to be prepared for an interview should one occur. We need to have proof that we’re committed to each other in every sense, legally and financially. Tomorrow we’re going to open a joint bank account and then we’re going to make an appointment at the social security office.”

 

“Didn’t you hear anything I said?” Helena asks flabbergasted.

 

“I did. But I’m not backing out now. Besides, for all we know, it could just be a set up to get us to admit we broke the law. We don’t know if Abigail Cho has any kind of authority to make sure I’m not brought on charges. I’m not taking any chances.”

 

Helena gives her a pointed look, causing Myka to roll her eyes.

 

“Fine, any _more_ chances than the one I took marrying you in the first place. But more than anything, Helena…you know I…I don’t want you to move back to London, thousands of miles away. I want you here.”

 

“Where you can keep an eye on me, I suppose,” Helena tries to joke.

 

“Something like that,” Myka agrees. “So, what do you say, are you in this for the duration?”

 

Helena considers the question. “I meant what I told Abigail tonight. Aside from Charles being in London, my life is here now and I want to continue living here, with you and all our friends. So yes, against my better judgment that you’d be better off letting go of this mess I’ve caused, I’m committed to seeing it through if you are.”

 

“I am,” Myka says with finality.

 

 ***

 

“Did you and HG go out for another romantic lunch today?” Pete asks, interrupting Myka from her work as he sits down across from her desk, absently squeezing a stress ball in one hand.

 

“Sure, if you count standing in line at the DMV romantic,” she quips.

 

“What were you doing there?”

 

“Getting the names changed on our driver’s licenses to Bering-Wells.  Yesterday we spent an equally romantic lunch hour at the social security office.”

 

“It’s sort of romantic,” he says.

 

“In a way,” Myka agrees.  Although she’d hated waiting in line at the crowded office, she couldn’t help feeling a strange sense of pride in sharing a name with Helena.  Now it was there in black and white for the entire world to see, she and Helena are joined together in names, in marriage, in life.  Together they are a family. She smiles softly at the thought.

 

“I’m surprised HG didn’t insist on Wells-Bering.”

 

“She’s the one who suggested Bering-Wells actually,” Myka says thinking of the day they went to the courthouse to obtain their marriage license.  “She thought it sounded better, alphabetical and all that.”

 

“Can’t argue with the alphabet.  So, Mykes, what do you and the misses have planned for the weekend?" Pete asks.

 

"I don't really know. We haven't made plans yet.”

 

"The newlyweds are without a plan? I mean besides the obvious," he says raising an eyebrow suggestively.

 

Myka refuses to blush and rise to the bait. "If you seem to think you know our plans, why bother asking about them?"

 

"Because if you two lovebirds have any inkling to leave the nest I thought you might like to come with me and Amanda to the pumpkin patch Saturday morning - sort of a double date if you will."

 

"The pumpkin patch?"

 

“Yeah, next weekend is Halloween after all.  And this Saturday is supposed to be beautiful weather, perfect for searching out pumpkins. Plus there's a corn maze I bet Amanda and I can totally get through it before you and HG."

 

"Is that a challenge, Lattimer?"

 

"Depends."

 

"On what?" Myka asks.

 

"On whether you choose to accept it as the challenge it is."

 

Myka shakes her head and laughs. "I can assure you that Helena and I beating you two through the corn maze would be no challenge at all."

 

"Oh-ho, big words from the lady. Alright then, I take it you're on for Saturday then?"

 

"It sounds like fun. I'll have to check with Helena first, but yeah, I think we'll most likely join you on your excursion to the pumpkin patch."

 

"Excellent," Pete enthuses with a clap of his hands. "We'll pick you gals up at your place bright and early."

 

"We can just meet you there," Myka suggests instead, uncertain she wants to be in a vehicle with Pete for the forty-five minute drive and certain Helena won't.

 

"Nah, let's drive together, it'll be more fun that way, not to mention eco friendly," he points out.

 

"Well you're right about one of those statements at least," she agrees.

 

"Hey! I'll have you know, I am the epitome of fun."

 

"Sure you are, Pete. I'll check with Helena about the driving situation too before I agree to anything."

 

"Man, you are so whipped," he grins.

 

"I am not whipped," she protests. "I'm considerate of her preferences that's all."

 

"Sure, that’s it. Well let me know what you and the misses decide and we'll make final plans,” he says leaving her office and letting her alone with her thoughts once more.

 

She is totally whipped, and she knows it.

 

***

 

They go out to dinner and a movie Friday night, the quintessential date night.  Dinner is a more of a hurried affair than their last dinner date as they need to make the movie on time, but’s it’s still pleasant, especially with no conversation about former lovers, for which they’re both grateful.

 

They sit in the back row because it's where Helena prefers to sit.  “Sometimes it’s more interesting to watch the audience members than the film,” she’d once explained to Myka early in their friendship and Myka has to agree, sometimes it is.  

 

Tonight happens to be one of those times.  The movie isn’t bad, but’s it’s predictable and Helena soon finds her attention waning from the screen to her fellow audience members.  It doesn’t take long for her to spot an interesting couple a few rows ahead and seated near an aisle.  They appear to be teenagers and at the moment, finding each other much more interesting than the movie as they’re locked in a heated make-out session.

 

Helena chuckles under her breath, catching Myka’s attention.  

 

“What’s so funny?” she leans in to whisper.

 

“Romeo and Juliet over there,” Helena whispers back.

 

Myka turns her focus towards Helena’s direction to see the young couple in a lip-lock.  “I didn’t know people really made out like that in theaters,” she whispers back.  

 

“Really?” Helena asks incredulous, but still managing to keep her voice to a whisper.  “You’ve never gone to the movies simply to make-out?”

 

Myka shakes her head.  “I go to the movies to watch the movie,” she shoots back.  “Are you saying you have done that…in public?”

 

“Of course,” Helena answers smugly, “on more than one occasion.”

 

“And you knew that was your date’s intention when they asked you?”

 

“Who said it was my date’s intention?”

 

Myka’s eyes widen.  

 

“And who says that isn’t the reason why I’ve asked you here tonight,” she smirks, leaning in closer to Myka.

 

Myka can feel her heart begin to race with the implication, but she knows Helena is only teasing her.  “I’m not making out with you in a movie theater like a teenager, Helena.”

 

“Oh very well.  Spoilsport,” she huffs, turning her attention back to the screen.

 

Myka grins at the way Helena pretends to pout. Raising the armrest between them, she reaches over to take Helena’s hand in hers, smiling when Helena turns surprised eyes on her.

 

Myka ignores the question in Helena’s eyes and just smiles wider, holding out her opened package of Twizzlers, offering them to Helena who smirks in return, taking a licorice whip from the package.  “Sharing your Twizzlers with me?  It must be love,” she quips.

 

“Must be,” Myka agrees in the same light tone, knowing of course that it is love, at least for her.  She tries to focus her attention back to the movie, but it’s a lost cause with Helena’s hand warm in hers, and her stomach fluttering at every soft brush of Helena’s thumb against her knuckles.

 

When they arrive home that night, on what is clearly meant to be their second organized date night as Myka is now mentally calling them, she is very much aware of the fact, remembering what transpired on their last date as it came to a close.  She grows more nervous with each passing step on the way to their apartment door anticipating Helena to ask her for kiss goodnight, and the different response she intends to give.

 

But the question doesn’t come.  Instead Helena searches inside her purse for her keys to let them inside the apartment, but unable to locate them, Myka pulls out her keys to unlock the door and let them inside.

 

“Thank you, Myka.  I had a lovely time tonight,” Helena tells her, removing her coat and hanging it in the closet.

 

“Even though the movie was predictable?” Myka asks removing her own coat to put away.

 

“The movie may have been a little lackluster but the company certainly was not,” she grins.   Walking towards the kitchen she asks, “Do you want some ice cream before bed?”

 

“Umm.  No, thanks, I think I’m good,” Myka manages to say at a loss where she misjudged Helena’s intent.  She watches Helena dish out a small scoop of ice cream for herself.

 

“So Pete and Amanda will be here by eight tomorrow morning, is that right?”

 

“Yeah, that’s what he said,” Myka says trying to dispel any disappointment she’s feeling at the moment.

 

“I hope I can stand being in a car with Pete for nearly an hour each way.”

 

Myka laughs.  “You and me both.  Still, I’m looking forward to the pumpkin patch - I haven’t been to one in a few years.”

 

“I’m looking forward to it as well,” Helena says finishing her ice cream and putting the dish away in the washer.  “Well, since it will be an early morning, I think I'll turn in for the night.”

 

"Oh, sure," Myka says taken aback since a glance at her watch reveals it's not quite ten o'clock yet and they are usually in the habit of staying up later on the weekends.  "Is everything okay?"

 

"Of course. It's just been a long, eventful week, what with work, Kempo class, Abigail's visit and our subsequent trips to the lovely DMV and social security offices.”

 

Myka laughs. "It has been an eventful week, you're right."

 

“Yes, and since I won't have the chance to sleep in tomorrow to try to recoup from it, I think I'll retire now."

 

“When you put it that way, I should probably get to bed early too.”

 

“Shall we then?” Helena asks, extending her hand to Myka who takes it readily, trying unsuccessfully with her other hand to quell the fluttering in her stomach at the innocent gesture. But apparently the fluttering will not be quelled. Being led by Helena this way, their hands entwined as they walk through their apartment, crossing the living room to the short hallway that leads to their bedroom is oddly intimate. They often retire at the same time each night, but not hand in hand as they are now.

 

However, the hand holding ends abruptly the moment they enter the bedroom and Myka is left watching Helena cross the room to open a bureau drawer, pulling out the light blue camisole and flannel pajama pants she seems to favor. “I’ll just be a moment,” she says before disappearing into the bathroom to change.

 

Myka forces herself to take a deep breath, laughing at herself that a little innocent hand-holding can get her so worked-up. But it isn’t only the matter of Helena holding her hand leading her to their bedroom just now. They had held hands through most of the movie tonight. In all the times they’ve gone to the movie theater, that’s never happened before. It almost makes her believe that there’s been a subtle shift in their relationship. But it’s probably only wishful thinking on her part. And Helena didn’t kiss her tonight as Myka had thought (hoped) she would. Of course, she could be the one to initiate a kiss. She did last time. If she did it before, she could do it again, right? It wouldn’t be overstepping any kind of line if it were under the guise of their date, right? This is what couples do after a pleasant date; they share a kiss. It’s not unusual. But they’re not a couple, not really, and the fluttering in Myka’s stomach turns into a sinking sensation at the thought.

 

“Myka?”

 

“What?” she startles from her thoughts to see Helena standing at the edge of the bed, changed into her sleep wear, staring at her thoughtfully.

 

“The bathroom is free for you to use to change,” Helena tells her.

 

“Okay, thanks,” she says hurrying to pull out clothes from her bureau drawer.

 

“Are you alright?”

 

“Sure. Why wouldn’t I be?”

 

“I don’t know. You looked troubled about something just now.”

 

“Nope, I’m fine. Good, actually. I’ll just get changed,” she says ducking into the bathroom before she makes more of a fool of herself.

 

Helena is already is in bed, covers pulled over her shoulders, ready for sleep by the time Myka finishes changing for bed and steps out the bathroom.  She’s disappointed that Helena doesn’t want to stay up to talk, at least a little, but quickly shoves away any lingering disappointment as she pulls back the covers from her side of the bed to slip inside.

 

She’s just gotten settled comfortably when she hears Helena speak up.

 

“Tonight was our second date.”

 

Myka feels the fluttering in her stomach that had abated earlier return with a flourish now. “That’s right, it was,” she says, pleased that she manages to keep any breathlessness she may feel from her voice.  

 

“And as you pointed out to me from our first date, now, when we’re about to say goodnight is a more accurate time to ask for a kiss goodnight,” she says rising onto an elbow to look down at Myka.  “May I kiss you goodnight, Myka?”

 

Heart thundering in her chest and voice caught in her throat, Myka simply nods, watching a smile bloom across Helena’s features before she is lowering her mouth to Myka’s in a soft, lingering kiss.

 

And Myka has a million and one questions running through her mind. Namely, do these kisses mean something to Helena the way they do for her? Are they real or are they just a means to become more comfortable displaying affection in front of others as needed? At some point she knows they need to discuss what exactly this intimate display really means but for now she doesn't want to risk an answer that will disappoint and so she instead surrenders to Helena’s kiss, tasting a hint of mint toothpaste on her lips before Helena pulls away with a soft smile.

 

“Goodnight, darling,” Helena tells her, settling back onto her pillow.

 

“Mmhmm,” Myka mumbles.

 

She can’t be sure, but over the sound of her beating heart, it sounds like Helena emits a throaty chuckle at her incoherent response.

 

 

***

 

The pumpkin patch is brimming with people, mostly young families when they arrive early Saturday morning. The foursome follows a family inside that consists of two young children, a boy and girl. The little boy isn’t walking yet and his parents have dressed him in a pumpkin costume for the occasion.

 

"Man we are so doing that to our kids when we have them," Pete chuckles.

 

"It is cute," Amanda agrees.

 

"And no doubt humiliating for him when his mother shows the pictures to his first date when he's seventeen," Myka mutters.

 

"Speaking from experience there, Mykes?" Pete laughs.

 

"Maybe," she answers non-committedly.

 

"Really?" Helena can't help the chuckle that escapes her. "I'll have to ask your mother if I can see that photograph the next time we're over there for dinner.”

 

"That's not necessary."

 

"Oh I think it most certainly is. I bet you were adorable. Besides everyone has those embarrassing pictures, it's all in good fun and look how happy they are," she says motioning to the children ahead of them. "That little girl dressed with fairy wings on her back is having the time of her life right now. Today will be such a happy memory for her," Helena sighs wistfully.

 

"You sound nostalgic, Helena. Are their any plans for the pitter patter of tiny feet in your household any time soon?" Amanda asks.

 

Helena glances at Myka furtively. "We haven't really discussed the matter in detail. Though, regardless of our feelings on the matter of children, we have no plans to have them any time in the near future," she answers honestly.

 

"Well I can't wait to have kids," Pete says. "I want half a dozen at least."

 

"Oh really?" Amanda looks at him pointedly. "And do you plan to carry them inside you for nine long months and then give birth to them? I thought we agreed on two with an option for three."

 

"You sound as though you're making a business deal," Helena laughs.

 

"Well, in a way it kind of is," Amanda says. "I enjoy my career, I don't necessarily want to give that up to have kids. Having two I think is manageable, at least I hope so."

 

"No matter how many kids we end up having, two, four, maybe more," Pete grins, "you're going to make a great mom," he says pulling Amanda to him and kissing her soundly.

 

"And you're going to make a great dad," she smiles back.

 

"All right already, you're both going to be great parents, I thought we came here for pumpkins not to discuss potential parenthood," Myka says.

 

"Yes, I'm starting to shiver, let's please get something warm to drink and possibly something to eat as well," Helena adds.

 

“Now you're talking my language, HG, I could definitely do with some food," Pete remarks.

 

"When can’t you?" Myka asks heading towards a building that looks like it might serve something warm.

 

Thankfully their search proves successful and they each come away with steaming cups of apple cider and freshly baked apple fritters, Myka and Helena sharing one between them.

 

A horse-drawn wagon passes by them, full of hay. "Oh, Myka, let's go for a hayride," Helena exclaims delighted at the prospect. She turns shining eyes on Myka so that she's helpless to refuse.

 

"Okay, let's go," she agrees.

 

Helena grabs her hand, pulling her along to the wagon, climbing into it, Myka following after her and Pete and Amanda joining them. The wagon ride begins a tour of the farm and as the brisk autumn air whips against their faces, Helena scoots closer to Myka's side and burrows herself against Myka for extra warmth.  Myka wraps an arm around her and pulls her a little closer.

 

The fall colors are vibrant on the farm's acreage and as they pass by the pumpkin field, it’s full of people out to collect pumpkins for the season. There's another field full of corn stalks, a sign showing where to go for the maze and they pass by a large barn that advertises a petting zoo.

 

"We're definitely going to the petting zoo after this and then it’s on for the corn maze," Pete says excitedly. 

 

Myka grins at his exuberance and finds herself catching on. It's been years since she's come to a pumpkin patch, but riding in a wagon among the scent of hay, the crispness in the air, warm apple cider to drink and Helena huddled close beside her, she's loving the time spent here and knows the memory of this day will stay with her years to come.

 

"You're on, Lattimer, but you're going to lose in the maze," Myka warns with a grin.

 

"Oh yeah? We'll just see about that Bering-Wells,” he throws back at her.

 

Myka looks at Helena to see a smile dancing on her lips at the combined name and she feels her heart swell at the sight and that Helena nestles even closer to her side at the mention of their combined name.

 

Yes it feels good to be here today.

 

After the hayride comes to an end, the group of friends makes their way to the large barn to look at the animals. Goats, pigs, and chickens occupy the space. The foursome stops at each pen to watch the animals eat and in the case of the baby pygmy goats, frolic and play.

 

"We need to get a pygmy goat, Amanda, they're like puppies."

 

"Puppies that eat everything," Amanda responds unimpressed with Pete's declaration.

 

"Including grass. Just think, no more having to mow the lawn."

 

"Mmm. Sorry, but we're not getting any goats no matter how cute they are," she says reaching down to pet one. "And they are cute," she agrees.

 

Myka also reaches down to pet another goat behind the ears. "Sweet too," she smiles. Only Helena doesn't seem enamored with the small goats, standing slightly behind Myka, just watching her pet the animal.

 

"You don't want to pet these little guys?" Myka asks her.

 

"No thank you, I'd rather not sully my hands."

 

Myka shakes her head. "They have a bottle of purell on the wall you know."

 

Helena glances in the direction Myka points. "In that case, very well," she says reaching to pet a goat too. "Their fur is coarser than I would have thought."

 

Myka laughs. "No worries of you wanting one then?"

 

"Heavens no."

 

They move on to look at the piglets and chicks before a dog comes to greet them, nuzzling under Myka's hand to gain attention.

 

"Hello there, where did you come from?" she asks smiling and dropping to her knees to rub the dog's coat, giving him a scratch behind the ears for good measure. "Such a good boy," she says in response to a bark.

 

Helena discreetly takes out her phone, snapping a couple quick photos before turning on the video recorder, wanting to capture how happy Myka is in this moment to have always.

 

"Looks like you've made a friend," she tells her.

 

"Any dog is a friend," Myka insists brushing dirt from her jeans when she finally gets up after the dog bounds away to greet someone else.

 

"Well what do you ladies say to the corn maze?" Pete asks. "Ready to lose?"

 

"I though I already told you once Lattimer, their is no competition as to who is going to make it through the maze first."

 

"You talk big, but let's see how well you actually walk."

 

Myka rolls her eyes but grabs Helena by the hand to lead her to the field of corn stalks anyway.

 

 

***

 

That corn maze took longer than I thought it would," Pete says.

 

"Because you got lost," Myka interjects from the backseat.

 

"Hey, I didn't get lost, I got turned around, there's a difference," he defends.

 

"Sure there is, honey," Amanda croons beside him.

 

"Yes, we'll be that as it may, it is getting to be near lunch time and Myka and I wondered if you'd like to stop somewhere on the way home for lunch," Helena says.

 

Myka can see the way Pete's eyes light up at the suggestion. "Ooh, that sounds like an offer I can get behind."

 

"Except it's an offer we'll unfortunately have to decline," Amanda says. "We've already made plans to see a movie this afternoon, remember, Pete?"

 

"Right, the movie, I forgot."

 

"You can't see the movie at another showing?" Helena inquires.

 

"Already bought our tickets online," Amanda explains.

 

"Oh, that's a shame. Myka mentioned you wanted to try that new sandwich shop, Pete. We thought since we're all here together it would be the opportune time to try it out."

 

"Oh man, I've been waiting ages for that place to open. Maybe we could see the movie later?"

 

Amanda gives him a scathing look that makes him swallow hard and thankfully goes unnoticed by the two women in the backseat. "You know we really can't, Pete. We've had this planned for weeks to see the movie this afternoon," she says significantly.

 

"So what movie are you seeing?" Myka asks.

 

“Some chick-flick Amanda wants to see,” Pete answers vaguely.  “I’d rather go home and watch Iron Man or Ant-Man or some other manly movie.”

 

“We’ve already seen both of those at least a dozen times, including last night,” Amanda rebuts.

 

Myka laughs. “I can’t believe you’ve really put up with watching a movie called Ant-Man so many times, Amanda.”  

 

"Why not? I like superhero movies."

 

"Yeah, but Ant-Man," Myka scoffs. "Just the name alone puts me off."

 

"That's because you have no respect for the genius that is Stan Lee," Pete says.

 

Helena sighs, already preparing herself for the ensuing argument. "I think we were discussing stopping for lunch, however did we get on the topic of superheroes and the merit of their doltish names?"

 

"Hey, they're not…doltish,” the word foreign on his tongue, “they're accurately descriptive,” Pete defends. “Iron Man, Captain America, Batman, Spider-Man, and for you ladies, Wonder Woman. They're classic."

 

"They're unimaginative," Helena insists.

 

"You think you can do better?" Pete asks finding her reflection in the rear view mirror.

 

"Quite."

 

"Alright then, you're a superhero, what's your power and your name then?" he challenges.

 

"Simple. My name would be the Time Traveler and I could manipulate time to pass through years, decades, centuries..."

 

"The Time Traveler," Pete mimics her accent. "Actually that's not a bad name."

 

"And I would travel with the knowledge of my current time," Helena continues, ignoring the interruption, "so that by going back in time, I could change the future to be a wondrous world with no war, crime or disease, thereby eliminating the need for a superhero at all."

 

"Actually that's not a bad power either," he admits. "I'd read that comic, probably watch the movie too."

 

"Why thank you, Pete, that's high praise indeed coming from you with your comic book expertise."

 

"You know what my superpower would be? Eating," he says not waiting for a response.

 

"That's not a superpower,” Myka scoffs.

 

"You didn't let me finish. I'd have to eat to power my super human strength, so I'd basically be eating all the time."

 

"How is that different from now, honey?" Amanda asks grinning.

 

"Well for one thing, I'd also have killer metabolism so I wouldn't gain wait and did you not hear the part about super human strength? I mean I'm talking lifting semi-trucks with one arm kind of strength."

 

"Mmm. So basically you're Superman without the flying capability," she points out.

 

"No," Pete refutes then thinks about it a moment. "Okay, yeah, that's about right."

 

Amanda laughs and hovers over the console to kiss his cheek. "Well, you'll always be my superman."

 

"I hope so," he says a little more seriously than the conversation has warranted. "Okay, then, what would your superpower be?" he asks curious.

 

"You mean besides my superior beauty that makes men fall to their knees in supplication you mean?" she teases earning an unseen eye roll from Myka and a very much audible huff of exasperation from Helena.

 

“Very mature, Amanda,” Helena groans.

 

"There's nothing wrong with embracing one's beauty. But seriously, I think my superpower would be something along the line, of being able to bend people's will in a positive way. Changing the minds of those that seek to cause pain and suffering."

 

"That's more admirable. Lady Justice you would be. Well then, what about you, Myka?"

 

"I don’t know, I haven't really given it much thought," she tries to deflect.

 

"Come on, Mykes, it's not a question with a wrong answer. It's just any power or skill you'd like."

 

“I don’t know, right now teleportation is looking good.  I could just teleport myself home instead of enduring this car ride and conversation about hypothetical superpowers.”

 

“Teleportation would be awesome,” Pete says ignoring her sarcasm.  “So are we talking a power you just have or an object you have to use like a portkey in Harry Potter?”

 

Myka sighs, getting pulled into the conversation against her better judgment. “Well, it’s a superpower right? I’m going to go with something I can just do rather than having to use some object.”

 

“Hey, there’s nothing wrong with a superhero using an object that has superpowers. Case in point, Thor’s hammer,” Pete says.  “Or Iron Man’s suit.”

 

“I really don’t see the point of discussing the merits of superpowers versus superhero tools like Thor’s hammer,” Myka says. “If we’re talking about the superhero universe, I think Peggy Carter puts them all to shame. She’s not a not a superhero at all but an intelligent, strong, competent woman who holds her own against any superhero.”

 

“Peggy Carter is awesome,” Pete agrees.

 

“Do you truly admire the character or is it just because you have a crush on Hayley Atwell?” Helena asks her.

 

“Why can’t it be both?” Myka asks smiling.

 

“I knew it! I knew you had a crush on her!”

 

Myka laughs. “What can I say, I’m a sucker for English accents.”

 

“Mmm. Should I be jealous?” Helena asks her.

 

Myka takes her hand, holding it on the seat between them, telling her seriously, “You have no reason to be jealous.”

 

Helena lets out a breath she didn’t realize she’d been holding. “Glad to hear it.”

 

***

 

When they finally arrive back at their apartment building, Pete asks, "Hey, since we're here, you got anything good to eat in your fridge?" he asks hopefully, ignoring the glare Amanda is shooting him. "I could use a snack."

 

"Seriously, Pete, can't you wait until you get to the theater?" Myka says exasperated. "It's like ten minutes from here."

 

"I know, but depending where we park, it's another five and besides I'm hungry now."

 

"You really are a man child sometimes. I don't know how you put up with him, Amanda," Helena says.

 

"Sometimes I wonder how myself," she admits, still glaring at Pete.

 

"Hey, you'd be hungry all the time too if you had this godlike figure to maintain."

 

"Oh my word, it's getting thick in here," Helena drawls.

 

“Actually if you wouldn’t mind, I could use a bathroom break before we head on. I think I had one too many apple ciders at the pumpkin patch,” Amanda says.

 

“Oh, right. Yeah, me too. I could also use a bathroom break,” Pete chimes in, receiving another glare from Amanda.

 

"Sure, come on up then," Myka tells them, exiting the car.

 

The four of them squeeze into the elevator, Helena pushing the button for the fourth floor.

 

When the elevator arrives at their floor, she is the first to get off, walking the short distance to their apartment door. She fumbles for a moment searching for her keys inside her purse.

 

Myka comes up behind her, keys in hand and smiling as though this is a common occurrence for them, she gently maneuvers Helena out of the way so she can fit her key into the lock.

 

"Always coming to my rescue, aren't you, darling?" Helena beams back.

 

Before Myka is given a chance to respond, Pete is saying, "Yeah, yeah, alright.  Right now she's coming to my rescue 'cause I really got to go, so if you could put some speed on, Mykes, time is of the essence.”

 

Myka rolls her eyes but complies with his request and opens the door, ushering Helena inside with a hand at the small of her back. She and Helena have only taken a step inside when they're bombarded with a loud chorus of "Surprise!" coming at them from inside the apartment as well as from Pete and Amanda just behind them.

 

Stunned, it takes Myka a moment to process that standing in her apartment are Leena, Claudia, Steve, her mother and Tracy, all grinning at she and Helena as if they just pulled off a grand scheme, which of course they have.

 

"What is all this about?" she asks, glancing about the room to see various decorations that are suspiciously wedding-themed.

 

"This is your bridal shower," Tracy squeals triumphantly.

 

"And I suppose you got in here with the emergency key I gave you to be used strictly for emergencies," Myka says.

 

"What do you think this is?" Tracy asks completely serious. "You and Helena have been married for weeks now, of course it was necessary to give you a shower. Now let go of Helena for one moment so you can both sit down."

 

Myka looks down at her hand that is curled protectively around Helena's arm. She didn't even realize she was holding onto her. She must have done it when she was so startled, even her body is in front of Helena as if to guard her. She drops Helena's arm now, quickly grasping her own neck and speaking agitatedly. "Tracy, didn't we tell you we didn't want a bridal shower?"

 

Tracy pretends to ponder the question. "Mmm, one could have determined based on your hesitance on the topic that you didn't want one, but you never outright said no, only that you'd think about it. Fortunate for you, Leena called me."

 

Myka glances at Leena for explanation who grins at her. "I found Tracy's number listed on your emergency contact card at work."

 

"The emergency contact card that's meant for emergencies?" Myka sighs in defeat, already knowing she's fighting a losing battle.

 

"You did say that day we found out about your marriage and discussing a possible celebration that I should talk to your sister. I know you weren’t really serious about it, but, well, we wanted to celebrate your and Helena's marriage, even if for some reason you don't."

 

"Myka, really you're putting up a fuss about nothing," Jeannie says. "Your friends and family want to do this for both of you."

 

"I know but it's really not necessary," Myka tries to explain. But how can she possibly explain that this simple celebration is the cause of such conflicting emotions. How can she explain she is touched by their sincerity and generosity, and that under normal circumstances this celebration would be entirely welcomed but under these abnormal circumstances it only makes her feel embarrassed and undeserving? Really all she wants to do now is climb into bed, pull the covers over her head and wish this little party had never come to be, despite her family and friends' best intentions.

 

That is until she feels a hand being slipped into hers and Helena leaning into her side, her lips so close Myka can feel her warm breath against the skin of her neck where Helena practically nuzzles her. "Come on, darling, we are newlyweds, it's only proper we have some sort of party to celebrate the occasion," she tries to soothe Myka's distress. "It's very considerate of you all," she addresses the rest of the group and Myka and I do appreciate it, though we are terribly surprised."

 

"Terrible at being surprised I think you mean," Pete says before biting into a sandwich.

 

"Pete!" Amanda scolds. "We're not eating yet. And you should have let Myka and Helena get food first."

 

"But I'm hungry and they're not even sure they want this shindig. I didn't want to miss out on the food before they decide what to do. For all we know, they could kick us out of here."

 

"I'm not going to kick you out, Pete," Myka says resigned.

 

"Does that mean the bridal shower is a go?" Claudia asks.

 

"Yeah," Myka sighs.

 

"Good because I got you an awesome gift I don't want to return."

 

“I think you mean, _we_ got you an awesome gift,” Steve interjects.

 

“Fine, Steve and I got you both an awesome gift,” Claudia amends.

 

“Since Pete has already started eating we may as well join him," Leena says. "We've got an assortment of food, salads, cold cuts for sandwiches, some pasta so dig in."

 

Still holding Helena's hand, Myka allows herself to be led to the kitchen where Leena's assessment of an assortment of food appears to be an understatement. Food is spread out across the entire counter and at the first scent of Leena's lasagna, Myka's stomach rumbles in anticipation.

 

Helena hears the rumbling and grins at her. "Someone is hungry."

 

"It is almost one o’clock and the last thing I've eaten was that apple fritter you insisted I share with you."

 

"I don't recall you offering any protest. In fact as I recall, it was quite easy to get you to accept half."

 

"It was huge! You couldn't have possibly managed to eat it by yourself."

 

"Pete ate three."

 

Myka simply stares at Helena after her inadequate comeback.

 

"Oh, yes fine, I realize that didn’t sell my point, but I think given enough time to savor it, I could have managed to eat the entire pastry."

 

"Did you really want to? I mean, did you only offer half to me to be polite?" Myka asks worried.

 

"No," Helena tells her. "Nothing made me happier than to share breakfast with you, except perhaps beating Pete and Amanda through the corn maze. No, actually, Pete getting lost in the corn maze and breaking through that wall of corn in a panic may have been the highlight of the morning."

 

Myka laughs. "He's never going to live that down."

 

"Because we won't let him," Helena agrees.

 

"Are you two still going on about that," Pete whines, coming into the kitchen in time to hear the tail end of their conversation. "Getting lost could have happened to anybody."

 

"We didn't get lost," Myka says.

 

"Neither did Amanda," Helena points out. "How did you become separated anyway?"

 

"I don't want to talk about it - it'll just add fuel to the already plenty stoked flame."

 

They all gather their food and sit down to eat, the conversation flowing freely. On occasion Myka steals a glance a the stack of gifts on the table, worrying about the money their friends spent on gifts, making a mental note to remember who gave what so that when the marriage dissolves, hopefully after Helena successfully obtains residency and not when she's deported and Myka imprisoned, she can return them to the givers with an apology.

 

***

 

"Okay, time for opening gifts," Tracy declares.

 

"You really shouldn't have bothered to give us gifts," Myka protests. "I told you before that between Helena and I, we already have everything we need."

 

"Yeah, two of them," Claudia inserts, thinking of all the unpacking she helped with two weeks before.

 

"And I told you, Myka," Tracy says, "that these gifts, this bridal shower isn't about necessity but about celebrating. So, with that in mind, let's get started. Oh, and I should mention that the tradition is, however many ribbons you break while opening the gifts, that's supposedly how many children you'll have. So good luck," she grins.

 

Myka's eyes widen when she realizes all the packages are tied with ribbon.

 

Helena notices Myka's dubious look and says, “That is certainly a challenge if ever one has been issued.”

 

Tracy laughs. "I broke three at my shower and as you can see I'm well on my way to fulfilling that prophecy,” she says patting her protruding stomach.

 

"I won’t break any ribbons," Myka says determined.

 

The gift opening goes well through the first few packages, Myka and Helena alternating opening the gifts. Myka takes such painstaking care not to tear into anything, tediously untying knots purposely made in the hope they would be broken that Pete takes to heckling her while she does open the gifts just trying to get a rise out of her and ruining her efforts. It doesn't work and Helena takes her cue from Myka, being equally careful in opening the gifts.

 

"We're going to be here all day at the rate you're going," Pete complains.

 

"I'm sorry, are you the one who's under pressure about a silly superstition that will result in you carrying a child or multiple children?" Myka asks agitated.

 

Pete holds his hands up in surrender. "Sor-ry," he drawls out. "I had no idea you were so superstitious."

 

"I'm not. I just...it's like a game and I don't want to lose."

 

"I don't think you understand really how babies come to be, especially in your situation. You can relax, nothing is going to happen unless you both want it to happen."

 

"I know that," Myka says relaxing her hold a little on the latest pesky ribbon.

 

"Besides, if you don't want to carry the kids, there's always HG, am I right, HG?"

 

"As overjoyed as I am to discuss my fertility plans with you in front of everyone, especially when Myka and I haven't exactly discussed such things other than a brief generalization, yes, I would be agreeable to carrying a child."

 

"See, Mykes, relax. HG will carry the kids,” Pete says unfazed by Helena’s sarcastic response.

 

Myka doesn’t respond, finally getting the ribbon off the current gift she’s opening without a problem.  She and Helena pull the wrapping off together to reveal:  “You got us a camera!” Myka exclaims stunned.

 

Claudia grins.  “Yep.”

 

“Ah-hem,” Steve interrupts.

 

“Okay fine, Steve and I got you a camera.  It’s charged and loaded with a memory card too, so it’s all ready to go.”

 

“I can’t believe you got us a camera,” Helena says shaking her head in disbelief.

 

Claudia shrugs, taking he box from them and taking the camera out.  "As far as I know, neither of you have a good camera, only your phone cameras and I…we,” she says glancing at Steve, “just thought you should have something more substantial." She turns it on and takes a quick snapshot of them both looking overwhelmed. 

 

"It’s got a good video recorder on it too, for recording all the memories you’ll be making," Steve smiles at them.

 

“I bet I know what kind of memories they’ll be recording,” Pete laughs.

 

“Pete!” Amanda scolds.

 

“What?  I was talking about the arrival of their new niece or nephew, what are you thinking?”

 

“Never mind,” Amanda says subdued as Pete smirks at her, knowing exactly what she was thinking.

 

"Anyway," Claudia breaks in, "I'll be your photographer the rest of the afternoon. I figure you might want some pictures of this party."

 

"Thank you, that's very thoughtful," Helena says sincerely, glancing at Myka.

 

Finally, just as they think they’ve come to the end of opening gifts, Tracy pulls two more from a bag.  "Okay, so I have gifts for you both separately, but they're kind of the same, so you'll have to open them together," she explains as she hands them each a brightly wrapped box.

 

The boxes aren't very large but they are wrapped with more abominable ribbons and Myka and Helena take their time so as not to break a ribbon, which they have managed to do so far without incident. And as these appear to be the last packages to open, neither wants to break their run.

 

It's Helena whom removes the ribbon on her package first, and lifting the lid, she parts tissue paper and gasps at the item inside.

 

Hearing her gasp, Myka leans closer to Helena to peer inside the box to see lingerie.  Lingerie that is blue and appears to be made of satin with a lace trim at the bustline and when Helena holds it up against her at the request of the rest of the group to see what she received, Myka notices the lingerie is little more than a slip and when worn, will leave so much body on display. Helena's beautiful, perfect body.

 

She hears the snap of the ribbon clutched in her hand before she feels it oddly enough, but that may be because shouts and laughter accompany the sound.

 

"You broke a ribbon!" Tracy cheers. "And it was my gift that did the trick."

 

"Ha! Guess since you broke the ribbon, you’ll have one kid after all. Pete tells them.

 

Myka wants the floor to open up and swallow her whole and not only because of Pete's statement or Tracy's delight over Myka essentially losing her little party game, but because it must be written all over her face how much she wants to see Helena in that piece of lingerie - it must be obvious how much she wants Helena to everyone in the room, including Helena and Myka doesn't know how to deal with such a revelation.

 

"Go on and finish opening yours," Tracy tells her with a knowing smirk. And Myka really doesn't want to, considering her package is the same shape as Helena's. But a look of interest in Helena's eyes encourages her to follow through and as expected she finds lingerie inside just as she knew she would. It looks like the same design but rather than blue, hers is a pretty lavender color. And also inside the box that she failed to notice when Helena opened her gift, is a pair of matching panties made of lace. Oh god.

 

"Go on, hold it up the way Helena did hers so Claudia can get a picture,” Tracy instructs. Myka does as she's told and when she bravely glances at Helena, the look in her eyes is nothing Myka has seen before. She doesn't know what that look means but it makes her heart thud in her chest and she feels a pull in her stomach.

 

"So what do you think of them?" Tracy asks.

 

Myka breaks her stare to look at Tracy, but still affected by the way Helena is looking at her she can’t seem to form a response.

 

Helena answers for her and says, "These are a very thoughtful gift. They're lovely, Tracy and we're sure to make good use of them, won’t we darling?” she smiles.

 

“Mmm,” Myka nods not meeting her eyes and trying hard not to visualize exactly how they would make good use of these particular articles of clothing.

 

"I'm so glad you like them," Tracy says clapping her hands in excitement. "I know you probably already have something like this, but this is your bridal shower and typically the bride does receive this kind of gift so I couldn't resist getting you both lingerie."

 

"Are you sure you couldn't have resisted just a little?" Myka asks, finally finding her voice again.

 

"Oh you! You can't deny that you want to see how it looks on Helena. I saw your face when she revealed it, everyone did. You broke a ribbon.”

 

"Because I was...surprised."

 

"Funny, that's a strange word to use in place of aroused."

 

"Tracy! Enough teasing," Jeannie gently chastises, noticing Myka's discomfort.

 

"Fine, but Myka, do you remember that day I called you at work a while back?” Tracy smirks.

 

Myka's eyes grow wide in realization. "This is why?"

 

"Uh-huh. You're welcome,” she winks.

 

"What is this secret conversation you are apparently having?" Helena asks looking to Myka for an explanation.

 

Tracy provides one before Myka can say a word. "I called Myka at work the day after dinner at Mom and Dad's place to ask her what color she liked best on you. Guess what the answer was."

 

Myka really wishes the floor would swallow her whole about now.

 

"Well I hardly think that's much of a secret. I'm aware Myka prefers me in blue more than any other color, that's why I wear it as often as I do."

 

"You do?" Myka asks truly surprised. "You wear blue for me?"

 

"Well, not entirely for you, darling, I do happen to love the color as well, but once I realized how much more you seemed to like it when I wear blue, yes, I have made more of a conscious effort to wear it."

 

Despite knowing the answer will probably embarrass her further, Myka asks anyway, "How did you know I liked blue on you best of all?"

 

"Your eyes," Helena says softly, "they linger."

 

And yep, definitely embarrassing. “Ah," Myka swallows. "Sorry."

 

“Don’t be,” Helena grins.

 

“All right, gifts are opened, admired, etcetera, it’s time for cake,” Pete declares.

 

“Really, you’re hungry again?” Helena asks him.

 

“Um, there’s cake, so yeah,” he answers.

 

“Honestly, I’m hungry again too,” Tracy admits, looking at the cake longingly.

 

“You’re eating for two. That’s understandable,” Amanda tells her. “Pete on the other hand…”

 

“Hey, I’m a growing boy,” he protests.

 

“That’s technically true,” Amanda smiles, gently prodding him in the stomach.

 

“Is that a dig at my love handles?”

 

“Not at all. You know I love your love handles,” Amanda says kissing his cheek.

 

“Okay, moving on before I lose my lunch,” Claudia interrupts. “The cake looks great, Leena.”

 

“Thank you,” Leena answers, gathering plates and silverware.

 

“You made the cake, Leena?” Myka asks.

 

“I did. I know cake isn’t your favorite dessert, Myka, but Tracy insisted there be a cake today and I remembered you did enjoy my lemon layered cake with raspberry filling I made for the last office party so thought it would be appropriate for today.”

 

“That’s very sweet of you, Leena, thank you. And it looks wonderful. But why did Tracy insist on a cake today?” she asks even though she fears the answer.

 

“Because you two have to cut the cake and feed each other like newlyweds are supposed to do,” Tracy answers her as though it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

 

Helena arches a brow in surprise. “Is that so?”

 

“Yes, now get to it. The rest of us are dying to have some of that incredible looking cake already.”

 

Leena hands Myka a large knife to cut into the cake with and while everyone else gathers around the table, Helena joins Myka at her side.

 

Myka barely registers that Claudia along with everyone else is snapping photos of them. What she is very aware of is Helena’s warm hand covering her own as they cut into the cake together. She’s also very much aware of the expectation placed on them to feed each other a piece of cake and watches as Helena breaks off a small morsel to do just that.

 

“You’re not going to smear it in my face, right?” Myka tries to joke, hoping the pounding of her heart remains unnoticed by Helena and the rest of the group.

 

“I don’t intend to,” Helena answers.

 

It’s such an awkward thing being fed by someone else but Helena manages it, carefully placing the cake in Myka’s mouth. Myka can feel a smidgen of frosting dot the edge of her mouth but before she can remove it herself, Helena is brushing it away with her thumb, swiftly bringing her thumb to her own mouth to lick clean.

 

It’s all Myka can do not to choke on her cake at the action.

 

“Sorry about that darling,” Helena smiles, eyes alight.

 

“Okay, Myka, you’re turn to feed Helena,” Tracy insists.

 

The look in Helena’s eyes is one of amusement at the entire ordeal. That look doesn’t help Myka’s nerves any and with trembling fingers, she gathers a piece of cake between them and carefully places the cake in Helena’s mouth. Helena’s very sensual and very warm, wet mouth, for Helena has closed her lips around Myka’s fingertip, licking at it with her tongue once before Myka pulls it away with a ragged breath.

 

She sees the smirk on Helena’s lips as she swallows the cake, sees her dark eyes alight with mischief and without a second thought, as though it’s the most natural thing in the world, Myka lurches forward to kiss Helena. Hearing Helena gasp in surprise, she wraps her arms around Helena’s waist to pull her closer. And when she feels Helena’s lips part under hers, she slips her tongue into Helena’s mouth, tasting the sweetness of the cake on Helena’s tongue, feeling Helena’s hand in her hair, tugging her closer as their kiss deepens.

 

It’s only when she hears the cheers and laughter emanating from their guests that Myka remembers they have an audience and pulls away breathless and more than a little embarrassed. She drops her arms away from Helena, taking a step back, unable to hold her gaze.

 

But Helena doesn’t allow her to go far and takes a corresponding step forward into Myka’s space, leaning close to brush another kiss along her cheek as their family and friends continue to clap and laugh.

 

“Oh my god, you two are so sweet!” Claudia enthuses. “And I got it all that sweetness recorded for you. I’d say this is a good start to all the memories you’ll be making.”

 

“It surely is,” Helena agrees still feeling the heat of that kiss on her lips, her eyes lingering on Myka, who for some reason avoids her gaze.

 

 

***

 

Later that evening, after their family and friends have gone with well wishes and an unnecessary reminder from Tracy of their plans for next weekend, the apartment is blissfully quiet once more. The living room has been restored to order aside from a few stray balloons and the gifts they received are still collected on the coffee table. Myka is in the kitchen, quietly rinsing off dishes and loading them in the dishwasher, Helena bringing in the last of them from the living room.

 

"That was quite the party," she says handing off the plates to Myka to rinse.

 

"It was."

 

"Unexpected, but I suppose it shouldn't have been given Tracy's interest."

 

"She's kind of hard to dissuade when she sets her mind on something."

 

"Yes, I realize that now. I'll have to keep that trait in mind for future reference. Has she always been so persistent?"

 

Myka laughs. "You could say that. She's just always been good at getting what she wants. Today she wanted to throw us a bridal shower of all things."

 

"Well, you can’t deny it was a sweet gesture."

 

"Yeah, I guess."

 

Helena leans against the counter, arms folded as she studies Myka at the sink. "I know you didn't want the party, Myka, but is there something else that's bothering you?"

 

Myka shrugs.

 

"You can tell me anything you know, we're in this together."

 

"For better or for worse right?"

 

"Well uh, yes,” Helena says.

 

"Alright then, yes, the party was incredibly sweet and generous and awkward and I didn't want it to happen. All the gifts and food and joking was meant for a happily married couple not two friends trying to beat the system to keep you from being deported."

 

"Are you saying you want to back out now?"

 

"No," Myka is quick to dispute. "No I don't want that at all, we’ve already discussed that. What I am saying is that this is one more layer added to the stack of lies we're perpetuating. How much more can we add to the pile before it all topples?"

 

"I don't know,” Helena answers quietly.

 

“Last week my parents gave us a substantial sum of money, enough for a honeymoon or a down payment on a house, Helena.  This week our friends threw us a bridal shower, giving us gifts. How am I supposed to explain to them that it was all for nothing, that none of this is real?"

 

"None of it?" Helena challenges softly, thinking of the heated kiss they shared only hours earlier.

 

Myka looks up sharply to meet Helena’s gaze, seeing the quirk of her brow and feels her heart speed up at the question. She forces her gaze away, concentrating again on rinsing plates before loading them into the dishwasher. “You know what I mean.  We married for an entirely different reason than our friends and family believe.”

 

Helena sighs. “That’s not entirely accurate. They are aware of the deportation issue, but yes, the situation is becoming more complicated, especially with days like this, isn’t it?”

 

“To state it mildly,” Myka says.

 

“I suppose all there is to do is to take it a day at a time. We’ve done well enough so far. I think we just have to try not to worry about what tomorrow may bring, difficult as that may be. And hope that everything works out for good in the end - that I’m not deported, that you’re not fined or arrested and that through it all, our friendship remains firmly in tact. For that’s my greatest fear, Myka, is that somehow, after everything you’ve gone through for me - that you will come to regret it. I couldn’t bear to lose your friendship,” Helena admits softly.

 

“That will never happen,” Myka says adamant.

 

“Why not?” Helena asks, eyes dark with interest.

 

 _Because I love you_ is the explanation that almost tumbles from Myka’s lips. But she can’t say that, not now, not in the kitchen like this, in the middle of rinsing dirty dishes. Not when she doesn’t know for sure how Helena would feel about the admission. That such an admission could change their friendship, possibly into something more, but more likely not, and thus adding an unnecessary strain to their relationship. She can’t risk that happening.

 

“Because…I don’t want to lose our friendship either. We are friends, Helena, and that’s never going to change,” Myka says instead.

 

“Never change,” Helena repeats the words uncertainly as though the concept is something foreign to her. “You’re right, of course our friendship will never change,” she says. And if she had been standing very close to Myka before, she’s not now, taking a step backward, distancing herself.

 

“Well, if you’ll excuse me, I think I’ll just finish tidying the living room,” Helena finally says, unaware that Myka watches her go with regret.

 

 

***

 

Most of the gifts remain on the coffee table where they left them from the party when Myka is finally ready to go to bed that night. She glances over they neatly arranged gifts, noticing everything appears to be exactly as they left it except for Helena’s box of lingerie is missing and so is the camera Claudia and Steve gave them. Figuring Helena must have put both items away, Myka decides to do the same with her own lingerie. Discarding the box, she unfolds it to take one more look at the lavender slip. It really is lovely, the satin smooth against her fingertips, and the lace delicate. She imagines how soft it would feel against her skin, what it would feel like to wear it, what it would be like to see Helena wear hers.

 

And she really can’t continue down that train of thought again. It only leads to disappointment and heartache. Carefully folding the lingerie again, she takes it with her to the bedroom.

 

Helena is already in bed performing her nightly ritual of applying lotion to her hands and legs. Those beautiful, toned legs and Myka glances away before she is caught staring. Again. She diverts her attention instead to putting away the lingerie. Pulling open the drawer in which she keeps her bras and underwear, she places the folded lingerie in a corner, frowning at the sight of it. It's not good enough, she doesn't want this reminder everyday when she pulls out clothes to wear that she and Helena don't have the kind of relationship, the kind of marriage that warrants wearing lingerie for each other. Pursing her lips, she pushes the article of clothing deep within the drawer, out of sight and hopefully out of mind. From the same drawer she pulls out a camisole and flannel pajama bottoms before closing the drawer more forcefully than she intended.

 

When she turns around, Helena is watching her. "Everything alright?"

 

"Yeah. I'm going to get changed for bed," Myka says quickly disappearing inside the bathroom.

 

Dressed comfortably in pajamas moments later and her face freshly washed, Myka feels slightly better when she pulls back the covers on her side of the bed. And when did she start thinking of it as her side? The entire bed used to be hers but she has never been more willing to share anything in her life, as she is to share this bed, this apartment, this life with Helena. Things are not perfect, far from it considering the ongoing investigation into their marriage and the awkwardness that comes with that, but despite the uncomfortable moments, Myka knows she would do it all again in a heartbeat if it meant keeping Helena close to her.

 

Helena is sitting against the headboard with her laptop open as Myka adjusts a pillow behind her back to sit, reaching for her glasses and the latest novel she's reading that sits on her nightstand.

 

"Actually, if it's not too much bother, I thought we might go over some more marriage fraud interview questions tonight," Helena says.

 

"Oh, okay, sure," Myka says setting the book aside with some regret. She loves conversing with Helena, but so far the questions they've gone over for marriage fraud have been mundane and sometimes intrusive. Myka finds it hard to believe that she or Helena not remembering the details of their marriage ceremony (she remembers every detail) or what beverage Helena prefers with breakfast (Earl Grey tea of course) or for crying out loud, the date of her last menstruation cycle, could be cause to make or break their case. It just seems too absurd to be true, but despite that, they have diligently gone over any questions they can find on the Internet on the various sites available. "What questions have you found to go over tonight?"

 

"Questions about sex," Helena answers calmly.

 

Myka gapes at her. "Are you serious?"

 

"Quite."

 

"We could really be asked questions about our...sex life?" she stutters.

 

"Apparently they can, yes," Helena answers, turning her laptop to show Myka the questions.

 

Myka glances at the list of questions, her eyes widening as the list goes on. "I can't believe we can be asked such personal questions. It's an invasion of privacy, isn't it?"

 

Helena sighs. "We're dealing with a government agency. As far as they're concerned, I'm viewed as a threat. Apparently if we give the same answers about what we do in bed together, I'll no longer be perceived as a threat. Difficult as that is to believe, here it is in black and white,” she says dryly.

 

"I don't know what to say to that."

 

"I am sorry, Myka, I realize this is uncomfortable." Ideally Helena would have preferred another way entirely to learn Myka's sexual preferences but that way is not an option at this point.  But it doesn’t mean she’s not above a little teasing. "If you have another idea as to how we could go about finding out this information about each other, believe me I am perfectly amendable to any suggestions you may have,” she grins.

 

Myka gulps at the implication. She can certainly think of another way, but that's not really an option right now.

 

"Besides," Helena continues when Myka doesn't answer right away, "we just had our bridal shower, received Tracy’s…intimate gifts, it seemed as good a time as any to discuss the topic."

 

"Did you know these questions were on the list before?"

 

"Yes, I've scanned over several lists with minor variations, they all have basically the same kind of questions, including questions about a sexual relationship.  I’ve just refrained from discussing them with you because it never seemed to be an appropriate time. But now…well…I thought it might be.”

 

"Do we really have to do this tonight?"

 

"No, of course not, but I do think we'll have to have the discussion eventually. And as the saying goes, why put off tomorrow what you can do today?  Or tonight as the case may be."

 

Myka is gripping the duvet, twisting it in her hand without thought until Helena stills her movements with a gentle hand. "Myka, we don't have to do this if it makes you uncomfortable."

 

"But we're going to have to eventually, you just said so, in case we’re interviewed."

 

Helena studies Myka beside her for a moment. "Is it talk of sex in general that makes you uncomfortable or talking of it with me?"

 

Myka glances down at her hand still gripping the duvet. "A little of both actually."

 

"That's fine. We've never been the kind of friends that discuss our sex lives have we?" Helena is just coming to realize she's actually grateful for that fact, not wanting to envision Myka with anyone else so intimately.

 

"No, but sex isn't really something I've talked about much with any of my friends. Even with Tracy, I pretty much avoid the topic if I can."

 

"I don't really share that part of myself with friends either, lovers absolutely, but not friends,” Helena says.

 

"Not even the 'many of my lovers have been men' comment you made to Pete shortly after you began working with us?" Myka questions.

 

Helena chuckles. "I'd forgotten I'd said that."

 

"I thought Pete's eyes were going to fall out of his head."

 

"Yes, well I didn't make the comment solely to get a reaction from Pete," Helena smiles looking at Myka whose heart threatens to beat right out of her chest, wondering if it was she Helena meant that comment for all those years ago.

 

"Now then, what's the decision for tonight? Put off the questions for another time or take the plunge?"

 

Taking a breath, Myka answers, "Let's go over them now and get it over with."

 

"Alright." Helena shifts closer to Myka so they can both view the laptop screen easily. "How often do you and your spouse engage in sexual activity in a week?" Helena reads the first question aloud.

 

Myka is already wishing she had decided to put these questions off for another time. "I don't know - what do you think would be an acceptable number?"

 

"Acceptable? I don't think there's any wrong answer here."

 

"There is if we don't share the same answer. So what do you think - twice a week?" Myka asks feeling uncomfortable about making up a sex life between them.

 

"Well, since we are supposed to be newlyweds and newly dating as well, I'd say the number should be higher. Especially considering we do work in the same office as well."

 

Myka frowns in confusion. "Why would working in the same office contribute to the number?"

 

"Really, Myka, don't tell me you've never had an office fantasy? About using a desk in substitution for a bed?" Helena smiles coyly.

 

Myka never had before, but now...well all right then. "So back to the number then - you think four times a week is more realistic?" she asks with a catch in her voice.

 

"It still depends."

 

"On what?"

 

"Are we talking about sessions we come together to make love or the number of times we make love within a session? Because they can be vastly different," Helena smirks.

 

Myka can't believe she's having this conversation with Helena as they share a bed. She takes a deep breath to calm her nerves. "I think they probably mean number of sessions rather than number of times within a session.”

 

"Then yes, four times is reasonable, though for the record, I think it would be more often.”

 

"For the purpose of the interview, let’s stick with four times a week.”

 

“Very well,” Helena agrees.

 

“Okay, one question down. What's next?" she asks too afraid to look at the screen.

 

"What is your spouse's favorite sexual position?"

 

Myka gapes at her. "Does it really say that?"

 

"Have a look," Helena says adjusting the screen for Myka to read for herself.

 

Myka palms her neck in agitation. "I can't believe these kind of questions can be asked. It's such an invasion of privacy."

 

"It really is," Helena agrees. "Well then, which one of these is your preference?"

 

Myka glances over the few choices given and blushes. "I guess if I have to choose it would be this one," she says pointing to an option on the screen.

 

"The choices given are rather limited in my opinion, but still they work. And it's clear based on these positions the questions are geared toward heterosexual activity, the fact they don't even mention oral sex at all is appalling. I suppose based on what they do list I would have to answer the same position as you, but I also enjoy this one," she says tapping her finger on the screen to another choice.

 

Myka has a brief image of Helena in such a position and it's nearly too much to bear. "I'd imagine these choices are just examples. You could probably answer with whatever is truly your favorite."

 

"In that case, oral will definitely be at the top of my list. What about you, Myka? These dismal choices notwithstanding, what’s your preference?”

 

Myka blushes even deeper if possible, barely meeting Helena’s eyes. "The same as you, oral."

 

“That is…good to know,” Helena says, clearing her throat from the dryness that suddenly overcomes her mouth with Myka’s admission. “Really though, the choices here are so limited. It doesn’t say anything about role playing or bondage, not to mention the use of toys," she says shaking her head in disgust.

 

"Would you really want a government agency to ask you about all that?" Myka asks taken off guard by the turn in conversation and trying desperately not to think of Helena and she…of them together…she’s _not_ thinking about it.

 

"No I wouldn't, but that doesn’t change the fact these choices are still limited.”

 

"So do you like that kind of stuff in the bedroom?” Myka asks, her curiosity getting the better of her.

 

"With the right partner, absolutely. It can be gratifying not to mention pleasurable and also freeing in its own way. But what about you?"

 

Myka bites at her lip. It’s a fair question for Helena to ask since Myka asked first. "The experience I do have is pretty limited. I didn’t’ find it all that great to be honest.” Myka shakes her head. "I guess I’m just not that adventuresome," she tries to laugh at herself.

 

“Or perhaps you didn’t have the right partner. Someone who made you feel completely comfortable so that you could to let go and embrace such things,” Helena quietly suggests. “Anyway, you must have some fantasy, some unknown desire you wish to fulfill."

 

"There is something I've always wanted to do but, after what we’ve just discussed it will sound so juvenile to you."

 

"I'm intrigued. Just what is it you've always wanted to try?" Helena grins.

 

"Please don't laugh."

 

"I won't," Helena promises.

 

Myka takes a deep breath. "I've always had a secret desire to go parking," she says biting her lip, waiting for Helena's reaction.

 

Helena doesn't laugh but her forehead does crease in puzzlement. “Parking?  As in sitting in the back of a parked car in a semi-private area to make-out?”

 

“Yeah. I told you it’s juvenile.”

 

“No, not at all.  I mean the backseat of a car…it’s a confined space, intimate. And all you would want to do is make-out, you wouldn’t want to take it further than that?”

 

Myka shrugs.  Making out is all she’d considered before, but hypothetically, if Helena were her partner, she might be willing to take it further.  “I don’t really like the idea of making love in a public area where anyone could happen to see us…I mean me…in that hypothetical situation.”

 

“And what if it were guaranteed that you wouldn’t be seen, what then?” Helena asks, eyes shining.

 

“Then I…would consider going further I suppose.”

 

"As fantasies go, I like yours, Myka. I may have to add it to my own list." Helena stores the information away to hopefully fulfill one day with Myka. Perhaps as a date. Yes, she can picture it now, taking Myka to some remote location, packing food as though for a picnic. And for dessert, each other. Kissing that begins slow and tender but turns heated and desperate as their desire for each other grows.

 

She feels her temperature rise at the thought and quickly curtails any more thoughts along those lines.  “Alright, onto some more basic questions, shall we?” she asks clearing her throat and turning her attention back to the laptop.  “Size of the bed - easy, queen size.  What side of the bed do you sleep on?  I seem to be on the left.”

 

“Which leaves the right for me,” Myka says.

 

Helena smiles.  “Do you sleep with the lights on or off?”

 

“Off - although since you moved in there has been a night light,” Myka says glancing at the little light plugged into the wall on Helena’s side of the bed.

 

“It’s comforting to me.  I’ve never liked complete darkness.  You’d think I had some childhood trauma regarding being left in the dark,” Helena laughs at herself, “but there’s nothing like that.  I just don’t care for it.”

 

“There’s nothing wrong with that.  I was scared of the dark when I was a kid.”

 

“How did you overcome it?”

 

Myka shrugs.  “I don’t really know.  I think I just sort of outgrew it.  I used to fall asleep with a flashlight - of course it was used just as much for reading after I was supposed to be asleep as it was used for a nightlight.”

 

“Hmm.  I can picture you like that, eight or nine years old, asleep with a book and flashlight tucked under your chin,” Helena smiles at the warm picture she imagines.

 

Myka laughs.  “Something like that.  But my mom used to come in at night to check on me because I’d usually wake up the next morning to find the flashlight turned off and it and the book set carefully on the floor next to my bed. She never scolded me either, just let me go on reading after bedtime.”

 

“She’s been a good mother to you.”

 

“Yeah, I lucked out.”

 

“There is another question that is on the list tonight and one that was brought up during the party today,” Helena ventures.

 

“What is it?” Myka asks, having a feeling she knows what topic Helena means.

 

“Children.  The interview question asks if we plan to have children and we’ve only briefly touched on the subject.  I just want to make sure we answer the same way.”

 

“Well, you want them, right?”

 

“And you don’t.”

 

“It’s not that exactly,” Myka says softly. “It’s just that having a child is a huge commitment, you know? The idea of being responsible for another human life, for their physical and mental wellbeing is more than a little intimidating. And I just don’t know that I want that responsibility or that I’m capable of that kind of responsibility. I’m not even sure I can care for a dog, let alone a child,” she laughs uncomfortably.

 

“A dog?” Helena asks surprised. “I thought your reason for not having a dog was because you don’t have a yard.”

 

Myka shrugs. “That’s part of it, but more than that, I’m not sure of my ability to give a dog a good home, to care for it properly.”

 

“Myka, you…I saw you with that dog on the farm today. You were so happy giving it attention and it was clearly happy to be receiving your affection judging by all the tail wagging going on,” Helena smiles at the memory. “That’s what a dog would most need from you is your love. After that the other responsibilities, the feeding, walking, cleaning, and caring for will all follow naturally into place. And you have so much love to give, Myka. Anyone - any dog would be fortunate to receive love from you. Don’t let your fear stand in the way of that. And as long as I’m around, I’d be amendable to helping care for the dog too.”

 

“Amendable, really?” Myka laughs.

 

“Yes, amendable. I like dogs well enough. And if having one would make you happy, so much the better.”

 

Myka pictures them in bed as they are now, only with a dog sleeping at the foot of the bed, heavy on their feet. It’s a nice image, one she can easily envision. It’s an image that both excites and worries her. After all, what happens to the dog once their marriage ends? Do they share custody? It’s a depressing thought and Myka doesn’t know why she’s allowing her mind to travel that path and quickly curtails it.

 

“Dogs aside, we should probably decide on the children question. If asked, how should we answer?”

 

“Well, hypothetically speaking…our marriage…if we…I mean, would you…oh I don’t know what I’m trying to ask,” Helena exhales, frustrated with herself.

 

“I think I might,” Myka whispers.

 

“Really?” Helena asks surprised by the answer.

 

“I’d at least consider it, knowing it’s something you want.”

 

“But it wouldn’t only about what I want. We’d have to be united on this decision. It’s as you said, a huge commitment, not one to be entered into lightly.”

 

“Yeah, but what about you? Would you be content without having a child?”

 

“I’m content now,” Helena answers.

 

“But would you always be without having a child? Helena, you told me this is something you’ve dreamed about. And I saw you too - the way you looked at those kids we saw at the pumpkin patch today. You want a child.”

 

“Myka, there are other ways to have a child in one’s life other than to be a parent,” Helena says thinking of the baby Tracy is about to have. She’ll be an aunt, at least for a little while.

 

“Okay. But hypothetically speaking, can we agree we wouldn’t have kids right away? I’d rather we were both settled in our careers, have a large savings, and own a house near good schools, that sort of thing.”

 

Helena laughs. “You’ve really thought of this?” she asks delighted.

 

“The thought has crossed my mind. Especially since Tracy brought it up weeks ago and the way everyone else seems to keep bringing the subject up,” she huffs.

 

“I know, it seems so absurd, given our situation,” Helena chuckles.

 

“And it’s only hypothetical, right? An answer to give if we’re asked in an interview.”

 

“Of course. All right, moving on to easier topics. What does your spouse wear to bed?” Helena reads aloud another question and glances over at Myka with a smile. “Flannel pajama bottoms and a camisole - shorts in warmer weather.”

 

“And you wear the same,” Myka points out.

 

“Do you sleep with a window open or closed?” Helena glances at the window in the room. “At the moment the window is firmly shut since it is fall.”

 

“And because you get cold so easily,” Myka adds. “If it was just me, I’d probably leave it open a crack to let in some fresh air.”

 

“Really? You prefer to leave the window open no matter the weather?”

 

“Except maybe in a snow or wind storm. And not open enough to freeze, just enough to let in the fresh air.”

 

“I didn’t know that about you,” Helena says. “I wouldn’t be opposed to leaving the window open a crack - as long as you let me cuddle close to you for warmth?” she smiles hopeful, knowing Myka won’t deny her that.

 

Myka laughs. “Cuddle away,” she says slipping down under the covers.

 

Helena carefully sets her laptop on her bedside table before turning out the light and slipping under the covers. Regardless that the window still remains firmly closed, she shuffles closer to Myka and takes her usual position at her side, her head resting against Myka’s shoulder. She feels Myka slip her arm around her shoulder and cuddles closer.

 

“You know, for accusing me of having a proclivity to cuddle, I think you’re actually the one with the problem,” Myka jokes.

 

“Nonsense. I simply prefer to be warm,” Helena rebuts, breathing in Myka’s scent, taking comfort in the familiarity of it. “And you are so very warm, Myka,” Helena says, cuddling closer. Nights like this, wrapped around Myka under the warmth of bedcovers sharing stories and intimacies is fast becoming her favorite part of the day.

 

Helena listens to the steady sound of Myka’s heartbeat beneath her ear, finding comfort in the regularity of it. She feels Myka hold on a little tighter to her and she knows without doubt there is no where else she’d rather be than right here in Myka’s arms, where she belongs.

 

 

 


End file.
